The Dragon and the Hawke
by MovinTarget666
Summary: Marian elected to stay in the fade and face the monster so that the Inquisition could survive. But now they've escaped, and Marian in her own way has done the same. She manages to escape through a vision held by a strange woman who calls herself the 'Mother of Dragons.' So, might as well hang around and see what kind of high-jinx her new friend gets into.
1. Meetings

**The Dragon and The Hawke**

Marian Hawke was scared, more scared than she had been in her entire life, but she would not falter. She had faced blood mages, crazed apostates, mad templars, and the deaths of her entire family, she had not faltered, and so she would not now.

Even as she threw lightning at the massive spider demon that approached her, and the Inquisitor, Alistair, and the rest of them fled towards the great rift behind them, the Champion of Kirkwall knew she was doomed.

She watched with grim acceptance as they escaped, as the rift closed, as her chance of freedom was lost to her. It was here that her attention wavered, for but a second, but that was all the monster needed to take her.

There was a massive flare of pain along her entire left side, and Hawke was thrown a hundred yards through the twisting green air of the fade, to land against a wall that became her floor, and stare up at the monster that advanced on her.

But her task was complete, and Marian Hawke was not a moron, so she ran. As fast as her feet could take her, she fled from the monstrous nightmare that once guarded the great rift at the Grey Warden's fortress. As she passed a line, one that was unseen and unmentioned, the beast stopped trying to catch her.

It took her many minutes to realize this, though, but when she thought about it, she supposed that it made sense. The behemoth of a demon was fucking stupid, and its master had been destroyed, scattered to the ethereal winds of the fade. Its only orders had been to stand by the portal that was no longer there and wait to be summoned.

Now there would be no summoning, but it did not know that, and it did not know that its master was dead. So the old orders would be obeyed, and Marian Hawke escaped with her life. Well, she escaped as much as one can when trapped in the realm of dreams.

And so the Fade became Marian's home for a very, very long time.

Years later, who truly knows how long, she had certainly lost count, she managed to stumble into a new section of the Fade, one that had not existed before. Or maybe it had, and she simply had not reached it. In this new piece of the fade, she found an odd mix of physical and ethereal, one that had not been present since her time with the inquisitor.

She also found a girl there, or more accurately, she found a woman. The strange plain of snow didn't tell her much of where she was, what realm she had stumbled into, and after following the woman, she really hadn't expected to suddenly be in a tent in a desert.

When she had finished looking around in total and complete confusion, her gaze returned to the woman, and saw that the woman was gazing at her, ignoring a big guy and a baby.

At the same time, the question asked was, "Who are you?"

Dany did not know what to think of the strange woman who stood before her. She did not bear the look of a Targaryen, she had never met her before, and there was little chance that she would meet her in the future. The woman was as pale as she suspected Jorah would be if he did not spend every day in the baking sun, and had eyes the purest blue she'd ever regarded.

The woman, for the curves, the voice, and the gait could be held by nothing else, shrugs after a second, and tells her, "Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, you?"

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Mother of Dragons," Dany replies, as strongly as she can.

"Mother of Dragons? That's an impressive title, how'd you get it?" Marian asked her

"I birthed three from their eggs, and they are my sons," Dany tells her, sure that telling a dream about her life was not a terrible decision.

Marian nods in appreciation, "Well that's impressive. I don't think I've ever heard of anyone raising a dragon before. I'd have thought the threat of getting burnt would be a good deterrent."

"I am of House Targaryen, and we share the blood of the dragon. Fire does no harm to me," Dany tells her

"Oh, that's gotta be nice," Marian nods. After that, they fall into a moderately uncomfortable silence before Marian finally asks, "So, where are we?"

Dany furrows her brow, and for some reason she has some trouble grasping where she actually is. Looking around, she sees her lost husband and son, and her eyes widen, "I am in a vision, in the House of the Undying…"

"Where's that?" Marian asks, tilting her head. Before an answer can come though, the desert and the tent start to fade.

Daenerys looks around, and finds that instead of standing free, searching for her lost children, she is instead chained up, and Pyat Pree is staring at her with glee.

"Ah, welcome back, your grace," The Warlock cackles insanely

"Warlock," Daenerys snarls at him, dragging at the chains holding her, "What are you planning?"

"I plan on keeping you," Pree chuckles, "And your beloved children."

Dany stills, and looks around, and there, behind her by only a step, are her dragons. They gaze at their mother, waiting for her to act, for her orders. Turning back to the Warlock, she demands, "Why do you intend to keep us?"

"Your presence, and that of your dragons, increase my power exponentially!" Pyat Pree tells her, stepping closer to run a thin finger over her face.

Dany turns her head away from his touch, and sees a very confused looking Marian Hawke blinking at the Warlock. Before the Mother of Dragons can say anything about her presence, or ask for help, the woman from her vision declares, "That's not how magic works!"

Pree spins, and sees the woman in plate and leathers, and it is clear that he has no idea where she could have come from. He steps away from the Dragon queen and raises a hand, and begins to cast a spell.

Dany's eyes widen at the possibility of the woman being killed because of her inaction and shouts, and her dragon spew forth fire. Pyat Pree screams as he catches flame, and starts flailing around, trying to put out the burning cloth and flesh that the dragons have encased him in.

The Mother of Dragons watches as he starts to run in circles, and shares both a sick pleasure and a terrible horror at the sight of her enemy flailing and failing to snuff out the flames. There is a crack, and lightning strikes the Warlock down before the flames can completely snuff out his life.

Looking again to the side, the same side the lightning had come from, Dany sees Marian standing with her gauntleted right hand extended. Small discharges of electricity travel between her fingers as the magic seems to settle. Once she is sure that the man is dead, Marian lowers her arm, claps her hands, and says, "Well, that was bracing!"

Stepping over to Dany, she starts fiddling with the chains, "Whelp, let's get you out of these."

It takes several minutes, filled with cursing, clumsy fingers, and a few statements about going out of class that Dany really doesn't understand before the chains fall away and she is free. She smiles at her savior before turning her attention to her children, and starts working to free them.

With both women working together, the first two dragons are freed in about the same amount of time that it took to get Dany free. By the time they start working on the third, there is a shout down the hallway, and Jorah as well as the last of her Bloodriders burst into the room.

The old knight is out of breath and looks around the room with a steely determination that is not often seen, but the wind is taken from his sails as soon as he sees Dany and another, unknown, woman working to free Drogon from a chain around his neck. Sheathing his sword he steps up to them and asks, "Your grace, are you unharmed?"

"Yes, thank you Jorah," Dany nods, still working at the collar around Drogon

"Who's he?" Marian asks

"Ser Jorah Mormont, Lady…?"

"Marian Hawke," Marian replies, turning to Dany she asks, "So, you're a big deal, then? You've got a knight and some shirtless guys coming to your rescue."

"They are my bloodriders," Dany tells her, "And yes, I am a Targaryen, and the rightful Queen of Westeros."

"Huh, how bout that," Marian muses, then gives a triumphant sound as the collar around Drogon's neck releases. Smiling, she steps back, "Haha! Well, that was fun!"

Jorah looks at Marian and asks, "Where do you hail from, M'lady? You look to be of the North, but I've never heard of a house Hawke, before?"

"Well, I'm from Fereldan, not the North," Marian corrects him, "And I'm actually part of House Amell, but my mother married an apostate instead of some puffy Orleasian."

One of Dany's bloodriders says something in his native tongue, and Dany nods. Turning to her new friend she says, "We have not heard of any of those places before, where are they on a map?"

"No idea, honestly," Marian shrugs, "It's been Maker only knows how long since I got trapped in the Fade, so my homeland could be lost to me forever!"

"The Fade?"

"The realm of dreams and magic," Marian tells her, "We were just in it, you know, before we wound up here with the bacon."

Looking to the charred corpse of Pyat Pree, Dany nods, "So the you I saw in my vision was the actual you?"

"Yep," Marian nods

"How is that possible?"

"No idea."

"Very well," Dany nods, and lays her hand on the dias her dragons lay on. The three climb onto her and she declares, "We shall try and figure it out after we have dealt with Xaro."

"Who?"

"My husband."

"He do something to you?"

"No, but he owes me a fleet, and I am tired of Qarth."

It turns out, Xaro had in fact done something to Dany, and the Mother of Dragons buried the man and a woman who betrayed her in a vault. Marian didn't really find it all that fun, or beneficial, but she didn't say anything. Her silence did not have much to do with her supporting the way the man was killed, but more to do with the fact that she was being loud in other ways.

The Bloodriders of the Khaleesi learned how to properly loot a palace. Marian was calmly walking through the place, and as she had done countless times in the past, she opened books, pocketed jewelry and silverware, and killed anyone who tried to stop her.

By the end of the day, Marian had a fairly substantial pile of gold on top of the money that Dany collected to buy her own ships. When all was said and done, and the boats were off from Qarth, the two women sat in the captain's cabin with the dragons and talked about their respective lives.

All in all, it was a very productive first day out of the Fade for the former Champion of Kirkwall, and the only living mage in the known world.


	2. Dragons and Fishing

**The Dragon and the Hawke 2**

Marian had always liked riding on ships. She liked big ones, small ones, and any type in between. She had that advantage over Dany's men. While they were getting sick over the sides of their ships, she was happily skipping along the decks and putting all of Isabela's many lessons to good use.

Watching all of this, with a mixture of caution and curiosity, were Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal. They watched the woman whose leathers smelt of long dead dragon move from one end of the small wooden island to the other, doing strange things at every point. At some point, as the constant motion of the sea and the woman's pacing got to them, they each in their own pace would fall asleep.

Upon waking, they would again sight the strange woman whom their mother had become so fond of following the death of the other women. The strange woman who smelt of dead dragons would every now and then look in their direction with the same level of curiosity that they showed her. Eventually their each party's interest in the other boiled over until there was nothing to do but actually interact.

Marian decided to fish, and she had set up the nets, cast out lines, and after a week of waiting, pulled in a large pile of both fresh and rotted fish. The mage used the rotted fish for new bait, and set about organizing the fresher kills. The fish were placed in barrels that had already been picked clean of food, and most had been sent to each of Dany's ships for the cooks to make very large servings of fish filet for dinner. One bucket though, Marian saved for the Dragons.

The woman who smelt of dead dragon now smelt of dead fish, and the Dragons looked at her curiously as she dragged a large barrel smelling even more strongly of dead fish over to them. After setting the barrel a few feet from them, the woman reached inside and after a second pulled out a fish. The dragons stared at it curiously, waiting for the trick, or for the fish to be cooked. The woman clearly intended to feed them, though she did not have a pit or stove like the other humans did. Instead, what she did, was hold the fish out to them, and it burst into flames.

The dragons watched, each with some degree of awe as the human displayed their own power to them. The flames were their domain, and this human who smelled of dead dragons and fish was claiming that she was on their level. The woman who smelt of dead dragons was declaring herself a dragon by right of fire.

Marian, naturally, had no idea the philosophical shit storm that she had created in the minds of the dragons, and instead held out the now cooked fish for them to eat. Eventually, one of the dragons snapped the fish from her hand. She smiled as she watched it eat, then she took out two more fish and cooked them for the other two dragons.

"What are you doing?" Dany asks from behind her, causing the mage to jump in startled fright and throw the fish into the air.

Viserion and Rhaegal snapped up their own fish from the air before settling down with their brother to watch their mother and the newly declared dragon converse. The mother was clearly the more powerful of the two, if the sudden scent of fear that erupted from the newly declared dragon was any indication. The dragons had known that their mother was one of them, had known that she had birthed them and that she was to be guarded at all costs, but they had thought her weak. If the new dragon was afraid of their mother, or at least cautious, then that meant that they should be as well.

"I'm feeding the boys," Marian replies nervously to her friend, "They looked bored and hungry, so I thought I'd fix that. Plus, they've been kinda edgy around me, so I thought a little bribery would make them like me."

"It seems you were right," Dany nods, stepping up next to her, "Could you hand me a fish?"

Marian smiles and grabs another fish, cooks it, then hands it to her friend. Dany smiles and for the next hour, the pair feed her children.

To the Dragons, a clear hierarchy had been created with the simple feeding ritual. They were at the bottom of the pole, as sons. The Human Dragon of the name Marian Hawke was next, for she carried in her the power of the dragons, and had slain one older and more powerful than they. At the top of the hierarchy lay their mother, for Daenerys was served by the Hawke, and the Hawke's power served their mother as easily as it killed others of their kind.

To the humans, all that they could see was that the dragons warmed up to Marian, and that for some reason they were far more accepting of Dany's orders than they had been in the past. When she was trying to figure out what could possibly have caused the change in their attitude, Marian had laughed.

"It's obvious isn't it!?"

"What is obvious?"

"Why they're so much nicer!"

"Not to me, tell me."

"You ever heard the old saying: the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach?"

"I haven't…"

"Well, we just got to see it in practice!"

Marian had dissolved into a fit of giggles at that, and Dany had rolled her eyes and smiled indulgently at her friend's casual attitude. As important a it was that she remain proper and stood in power as the queen she was, she was also glad that she had someone who cared so little for propriety.

Jorah had tried to bring up the issue to them both at the start of their excursion, but Marian had swiftly shut him down, declaring that she had been sent from a dream to help Daenerys, so she damn well better act the way she was. Somebody else would have been sent if they wanted somebody else. If it was her that got sent to help out the Mother of Dragons, she was going to act like herself.

Plus, she could throw lightning, so she didn't take shit from anyone.

It was weeks later, after another feeding session with the dragons, that the shout that they were approaching the city of Astapor was called. Looking around in curiosity, Marian stands and strides over to the boat's stern and peers over the waves.

Sure enough, a large city stands tall in the distance, and they are sailing straight towards it. Turning to Dany, who had joined taken a spot beside her, she asks, "So, I probably should have asked about this earlier, but what are we getting in Astapor?"

"An army," Jorah tells her, leaning against the railing on Dany's other side, "Astapor is where the Unsullied are trained, and sold."

"The Unsullied?"

"An army of men trained from boyhood in the art of war," Jorah tells her, "They have never been defeated."

"They are also an army of slaves," Dany tells her with a frown of disgust

Marian furrows her brow, blinking a few times, then leans her back against the railing and asks, "So… we're buying slaves? I'm gonna go right out and say it… that is a shit plan."

"Yes, thank you, I know," Dany sighs, "But if I am to retake my homeland, I must be strong, and I must have an army."

"Well, why don't you try and get more bloodriders? They seem like a decent bunch," Hawke waves her hand at one of Dany's men, currently vomiting over the edge of the boat.

"The Dothraki only respect strength," Jorah tells her, "And they practice slavery as well."

"Maker, it's like I'm stuck in Tevinter!" Marian shudders.

Rubbing her eyes, Dany tells her, "I know this is not the best option, but it is the only option that I can see. I do not know how where else to go to collect an army."

Marian frowns, "I'm… I'm really not okay with this. I'm not going to stop you, but I do want you to know that I am probably not gonna want to talk to you for a while. Also… I'm probably going to kill a lot of people if they try and get their grubby slaver hands on me."

"I take it you have personal experience?" Jorah asks

"Yeah," Marian nods, "A friend of mine, Fenris, was a slave for most of his life. I helped him slaughter his old master and literally everyone who was even remotely related to the guy. Good times."

Dany lays her hand on Marian's shoulder and tells her, "I intend to free them."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I don't know, but I'll think of something."

Marian looks into her friend's eyes, narrows her own as she regards the deep violet of Dany's irises, and then nods, "Okay, I'll help."


	3. The Adrastian Side

**The Dragon and the Hawke 3**

The day was drawing to a close as Marian made the observation, "I don't like him."

Dany smirks, "Be glad you can't actually understand him. He is a vile man."

"You understand that gobbledy gook?"

"High Valyrian."

"You understand High Valyrian?"

"Yes, it is the tongue of my ancestors."

"Well, my ancestors were orlesian, you don't hear me talking with a fruity accent, do you?"

"Is that meant to make sense?"

"It probably would if you knew what I was talking about."

"It feels like we are talking in two different languages."

"Says the girl who actually talks in two different languages."

"Your Grace, Lady Hawke," Jorah cuts in, "Perhaps we should move this argument to the ships?"

"You are correct, Ser Jorah," Dany nods, and takes the lead on their walk towards where the ships are moored.

"What was that Krazy guy saying anyway?"

"You were not listening to the translator?"

"Missy? uh… not really, actually," Marian rubs the back of her head awkwardly at that, making an exaggerated frown

"Missy?" Dany raises an eyebrow at the pet name for the slave girl, Missandei, that had acted as Kraznys Mo Nakloz's translator.

"Yeah," Marian nods, "She's got the same color as my old girlfriend."

Dany stops, and turns to look at Marian with confusion, "Girlfriend? I'm not familiar with…?"

"Uh…. I did the nasty with her," Marian explains, "There was a ten percent possibility that we might end up married? Though, actually, Isabella was never one to settle down, so I may be overestimating that…"

"Your lover was a woman?" Jorah asks

"Yeah! She was great!" Marian nods, a fond and nostalgic smile playing across her lips.

"You don't intend to try and woo the queen, do you?" Jorah asks after a minute.

Marian looks at him like he is crazy, "You kidding? Dany's like my friend Aveline, all prim and proper, and way, way too straight to even think of taking a walk on the Andrasian side."

"Andrastian side?" A robed man that was walking near them mutters in wonder.

And like that, Marian included him into their conversation, "Yeah! Andraste was the prophet of the Maker back where I'm from. She got burnt at the stake for preaching freedom and love in a slaver empire, but it's said that she was wed to the Maker in the afterlife. And seeing as the Maker is a genderless being of unspeakable power, everyone just kinda assumes he's whatever gender they want him to be. So… Andrastian side is sort of… pansexual, i think the term is."

"Pansexual?" The robed man looks at her with alarm, exposing his face, and ending the argument when Jorah recognizes him

"Barristan Selmy?" the Knight asks in confusion

"who's Barristan Selmy?" Marian asks, and Dany's attention is taken from the road and a small girl playing with a ball to the conversation she had been doing her best to ignore after Jorah had brought up the possibility of Marian trying to sleep with her.

"He was one of my father's Kingsguard," Dany tells her, and her gaze locks on the old man, looking him up and down with a mix of confusion and interest, "But I had heard that he served the Usurper now."

"I did, your grace, to my shame," Selmy nods, "I was not their to protect your father, and in my shame I chose to stay and protect the next royal family. I have been dismissed by the Usurper's son, Joffrey, a boy as mad as your father once was."

"And why are you here, Ser Barristan?" Dany asks

"I hope to serve the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms," Barristan declares, dropping to a knee as he says this, "It has been long since I have served a good liege, and would be honored to do so again."

Dany looked down at the man, unsure. After a moment she turns her attention to Jorah, question in her eyes. He nods confidently at her, "Ser Barristan Selmy is the best blade alive, even at his age I dare say he is deadlier than most. Though why he would return to the Targaryens after serving the man who had them butchered is lost to me."

"I served Rhaegar Targaryen, and fought with him at the Trident," Barristan sighs, "It is of my greatest regrets that he died while I lived. I was a prisoner of the Baratheon's, and at the end of the war, when all the Targaryens lay dead but you and your brother, halfway across the world, i chose to fall back into the only thing I knew."

Dany regards the man, nodding at his words, "And now?"

"The boy on the throne is worse than your Father could ever have hoped to be," Barristan tells her.

"My father?" Dany narrows her eyes

"I served him faithfully, your grace," Barristan sighs, "But he more than any other deserved his title."

"The Mad King."

"Indeed."

Before they can delve more into unpleasant topics, Marian rejoins them. Dany startles as her friend steps up next to her, having not noticed that the mage had stepped away for a moment. The former Champion raises her gauntleted hand, revealing a charred insect corpse, "Anyone know what this is?"

Three pairs of eyes widen at the sight, and Dany breaths out, "Manticore…"

"Where did you get something like that?" Jorah asks.

Marian points her thumb behind her with a negligent flick, and the three turn to see a smoking corpse, "Who was that?"

"No idea," Marian shrugs, "Looked like a kid when she gave me the ball, then when I zapped her, she turned into a weird looking guy in a purple robe, so I zapped him again."

"The Warlocks…" Dany whispers

"What, like that guy who had you chained up?"

"Just so."

"Huh, well, yay, go team, killin Warlocks and all that," Marian waves her free hand in victory. Then she smiles and says, "I'm gonna go feed this to Drogon!"

"Why?" Jorah asks, confused

"He might like it," Marian replies with a shrug, "Later old guy!"

Barristan blinks at the way the armored woman addressed him and turns back to his Queen and Ser Jorah, "Who is that?"

"Lady Marian Hawke," Jorah replies, "From what she has said, she is from far from here and came to Her Grace in a dream."

Barristan blinks, and with furrowed brows, tries to figure out how many questions Jorah managed to add beside the one he managed to answer.


	4. Happy Dances

**The Dragon and the Hawke 4**

"This is really fucked up," Marian notes as they walk past the slaves strapped up on crosses

"The Walk of Punishment," Barristan tells her and Dany as they slow to a stop before one of the slaves, "It is a warning."

"To who?" Dany aks.

"To other slaves, to stop them from doing whatever it was that theses slaves did," is the tired response.

Dany holds her hand out to Jorah, "Give me your water."

While Dany tries to get one of the tied up slaves to drink, Marian walks over to another one, frowning at him. She looks the slave in the eyes, and she sees a terrible resignation present in his eyes. Years, maybe decades of pain, and degradation, and horror all pushed through his eyes and into her. She clenches her teeth, frowns, and turns away, unable to take the raw emotion that has passed to her.

With her eye averted, she sees that Dany, Jorah, and Barristan have moved on, and she jumps to catch up with them. She spends the beginning of the negotiations trying to tap down on her desire to roast Krazy as he tells Missy, who tells Dany, that she isn't rich enough to afford his Unsullied.

She watches the slave master with a mixture of hatred and hunger, and eventually the man notices. He turns to Missy and says something in that language that he doesn't know Dany understands, and Missy turns to her, "My master wishes to know why you are gazing at him in such a manner?"

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just thinking of all the ways I could kill him," Marian waves her hand, as though she were discussing the weather.

Missandei's eyes widen, and she turns back to Kraznys and tell him what Marian said, and the man laughs. He waves aside his concern over his gaze, though Marian has to raise an eyebrow at how easily he can dismiss a threat against his life.

There are ome more negotiations, then Dany does something that Marian really doesn't expect, and tells the slavers, "I have dragons. I will trade one for the unsullied."

This elicits a shit storm in both parties, but Marian stays back and watches her friend's face, as well as that of Krazy and his ilk. The former Champion of Kirkwall can see as clear as day that Dany has won the negotiations, and Krazy was going to try and milk her for everything that she had. She could also see that he had already accepted her offer.

It would not matter how many dragons Dany offered, only that Krazy got a dragon. In the end, Dany offered him Drogon, and took Missandei right off the bat. All the while, Jorah and Barristan look like somebody shit in their cornflakes.

Once the negotiations ended, Jorah and Barristan spent the next minute trying to dissuade Dany from her trade. Marian followed a few feet behind, skipping merrily as they argued with the queen, well, more at the queen than anything.

She was only drawn into it when Barristan looks back at her and demands, "And why are you being so silent about this matter?"

Shrugging, Marian tells her, "I trust Dany to do her thing."

She catches the Queen's smile as she steps up to Missandei and starts asking her questions. Skipping between Jorah and Barristan, she catches up with her friend and their newest party member and asks, "hey… butting in, sorry. What did you tell Krazy when I told you I was thinking of how I'd kill him?"

Missandei's eyes widen, and she swallowed, "I told him you were a mad woman in service to the Queen, and that it was your job to look at men and think of how to… do things to them. I was not specific."

"He thought I wanted to fuck him… didn't he?"

"yes."

Marian manages to hold herself together, for all of five seconds, before she lets out a tremendous laugh. She catches herself on a wall, and just keeps laughing for several minutes, and by the time she gets a grip over herself, the others have already left.

Looking around, she frowns, but shrugs. Turning to one of the unsullied, she asks, "Hey… you see which way my party went?"

The man does not react, simply staring ahead, over the sea. Marian leans up to his face, then turns her head to gaze in the direction that he is staring. She frowns to herself, then pats the man on the head like a dog, "Don't worry, you'll be free by tomorrow."

At this, the head turns, and the unsullied looks her in the eyes. Marian smiles at him, and presses as much comfort and caring that she can into him. She watches as tears well in his eyes, probably the first that he has ever shed. She just gives him a sad smile and tells him once more, "Tomorrow."

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough, and sure enough, every unsullied was lined up in formation as Dany, Marian, and the rest of their party exit the walls of the city to observe them and the Queen can be given command. Marian was carrying Drogon on her shoulder, and most of her back, while the nobles and slave masters of Astapor stared in awe at her and the Dragon.

Krazy was giving a speech, Missy was translating, and Dany was impassive as she strode past the lines of the Unsullied. His speech died in his throat as he caught sight of Drogon climbing over Marian. His speech, which had been something about sacking cities and bloodying the unsullied early, really seemed to light a gleam in Dany's eyes as she took the chain that attached to the collar around Drogon's neck.

Drogon, for his part, understood the nature of the farce that the mother and her second were putting him through. He knew that he must burn the pretty smelling man with no hair, but only at Mother's command. The prospect of burning a man was exciting, the most he had burnt himself, and alone, had been a fish. He still recalled watching the other bald man, the one who had chained mother like he was now, burning with the help of his brothers. He wanted this new bald man to burn as well.

Drogon tilted his head, taking flight and landing in front of the bald man and screeching at him. He gleefully let the man know that in a few minutes, he would be flash fried and eaten. He recalled what Marian had told him, when the collar had been latched around his neck: so long as there was a collar around his neck, he could eat humans. If there was no collar, no humans.

He didn't like it, but Marian hadn't been accepting of his hesitation, nor of Viserion nor Rhaegal's. The brothers had whined for hours at her, but she had been firm, and told them that bad people were a special treat.

Marian, for her part, watched as drool dripped out of Drogon's mouth and worried she may have overdone it just a tad when she taught the dragons what they could do with bad people when they had collars on. She hadn't expected them to understand her, but she supposed that they were a lot like Grrr, her Mabari. They were a lot smarter than people gave them credit for; they were basically dragon shaped people, who had mage's tempers. Marian could not remember how many times she had shocked people with lightning for annoying her. It was scary really, how much she related to the dragons.

It was by this point in her internal debate that she noticed that Dany had finally played her hand. The Queen was holding the whip thing that symbolized that she was the master of the unsullied and she was shouting in Valyrian at the unsullied. Allowing a big grin to spread over her face, Marian looks over at Krazy, who was looking more and more scared with every word that Dany was saying, as did the masters behind him.

She turned her attention to Jorah and Barristan, who had what may have been the most relieved looks on their faces. She rolled her eyes at them, not really understanding how they had actually thought Dany would be willing to sell her children.

Then the unsullied started killing people, a lot of people, and Drogon started burning other people, and Dany just sort of stood in the center of a terrible mass of organized chaos. Marian decides that she should make her way over to her friend, and casually pushes through former slaves murdering slavers and screaming people.

She stops in front of her friend and gives her a big smile and a thumbs up.

Dany returns her smile, though it is more subdued.

"What's wrong?"

"I have killed many people with this," Dany sighs

"Phe," Marian waves her hand dismissively, "they were slavers. Fuck 'em."

"You truly see nothing wrong with what I've done?"

"My friend Fenris, you know, the escaped slave I told you about," Marian continues after Dany nods, "Well he had a saying, the only good Tevinter, is a dead Tevinter. Now, what that means here, is that the only good slaver is a dead slaver. I think he was right."

She shudders, "I mean, Krazy cut off some guy's nipple! And the guy wasn't allowed to react! That's all kinds of messed up."

Dany nods, the small amount of reservations she had easily assuaged by her friend.

Together they stand at the entrance to the city, listening to the sounds of people dying, dragons roaring, and freed slaves cheering. Marian quirks her mouth and notes, "We should probably fix this place up before we leave."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you just destroyed a system that's existed for who the hell knows how long," Marian points out, "We should probably make sure that people don't start killing each other once we leave. That would just… suck."

Dany raised an eyebrow, "Speaking from experience?"

"Yep," Marian nods, shuddering as she remembered the shit storm that Kirkwall had become after the Qunari had killed the Viscount, "It isn't pretty, and old anger'll jump up out of nowhere and fuck everyone over.

Dany nods, "Then we will stay, until the people of Astapor are settled."

"Yay!" Marian cheers, then to the approaching Jorah she extends a hand, "High five!"

Jorah blinks at her, and shakes his head. She frowns, then extends a hand to Missandei, who hesitantly claps it. Marian starts cheering happily to herself, making some kind of dance as Dany gives an impassioned speech to the Unsullied and they start banging their spears.


	5. Learning

**The Dragon and the Hawke 5**

It took three days for Dany to realize that she had no idea what she was doing.

She had tried to encourage the unsullied to claim their own names, but apparently they chose the ones they were slaves as. If Grey Worm, the elected commander, was any indication, they were very happy, but still stuck in something of a rut.

When she went to Jorah, Barristan, Marian, and Missandei for advice, they hadn't been much help. Her knights reassured her that leading was in her blood and she would get the hang of it eventually, Marian had laughed, and Missandei had given some nice but ultimately useless advice.

After the meeting between her and her advisors, she watched a Marian approached Missandei for something, and the former slave nod. When she tried to talk to her friend about it, the mage had waved a hand and told her that all would be made clear soon enough. Unfortunately, soon enough didn't come soon enough, and she was faced with trying to mediate a dispute by sundown.

Standing before her makeshift throne, stood two former slaves and a child. The ex-slaves, both women, had come to the Mother of Dragons to beg for help in determining who should have the child. The child, one of the former masters, was not old enough to even speak, and both women had acted as his nursemaids and each wanted to take care of the child, whose entire family had been killed by the Unsullied.

Dany, in her throne, was unsure how to proceed, and had no idea what she should do in regards to this. She turned to her advisors, and it was clear that neither Barristan nor Jorah had ever had to deal with something like this before. Missandei turned to the queen and in the common tongue offered, "Perhaps the child should go to the woman with the stronger claim?"

"Yes," Dany nods, "But how could we tell who has the stronger claim?"

"No way to tell," Marian enters the conversation, idly feeding a rat to Viserion who was perched on her shoulder, "We could ask them."

"But how would we know if they are telling the truth?" Dany asks

Marian shrugs, "That's your deal, Dany. I can read body language and stuff, but you're the queen, and you actually understand them."

"You can read body language?" Missandei asks, surprised

"Yep, I'm just full of surprises," Marian nod, winking at the girl.

Missandei blushes, but ignores Marian and turns back to the Queen, "Slaves are told that they can never hide their true selves. None but the Unsullied are trained to be cold. It serves better if they are emotional, and their deceptions can be easily found. These women will not know to hide themselves from Hawke's gaze."

Marian blinks, and leans back, a smile slowly growing over her face. The smile becomes a small, wistful gaze into the distance before Dany manages to draw her back into the conversation, "Can you do that, Marian?"

"What? Tell if they're lying? Sure," Marian nods, and she thinks of Varic, and who knew what adventures he was having by now, "I was trained by the best."

"Good," Dany nods, and turns back to the two women, who had been waiting silently for the Queen to decide who of them would take the child. Looking between them, she then asks which had the stronger claim over the child.

Marian watched as both women began to speak in tandem, then both stopped and the one to the child's left indicated for the one on the right to speak. From the simple gesture, it was clear that there wasn't a distinct animosity between the women, but that they both cared for the child and wished to see him well.

The woman on the right spoke clearly, her answer heartfelt, but it seemed that she was holding something back. Her eyes would constantly turn to look down at the child, then at the other woman. Marian had seen this behavior before, back when that kid had gotten himself trapped in the fade. His mother had cared so much for him, but she also looked to the Keeper of the Dalish clan from the mountains for advice.

If she was reading this right, the woman on the left had about the same amount of wisdom and power in the eyes of the other woman as the keeper. And when she spoke, Marian could see why. The woman was older, taller, and she had the air of intelligence and power about her that many lacked. She looked upon the woman on the right and the child like a grandmother would an unruly child. She seemed to believe that the child should be with the other woman, but that the other woman was not ready.

After she finished speaking, Marian turned to Dany and suggested, "Maybe you should ask them if either have anything close to family."

Dany turns her head slightly, petting Rhaegal's head as he slid up next to her and nods, and turns to the women. As she asks her question, it is clear that the answer for both is in the negative. The queen looks back at her for some indication of where she is going with this, and Marian suggests, "Tell them that they should live together and raise the child as one."

"Like you would do with your Isabella?" Dany asks

Marian blinks, "Not what I was going for, but sure, I could marry them if you wanted to go that far."

"You could marry them?" Missandei asks, an eyebrow raised

"Yeah, there was this beautiful priestess in my home town, Leliana," Marian explains, "Best way to get a look at her was during church ceremonies, so I just kinda fell into the habit of learning all the prayers and ceremonies and stuff. Plus there was this one time I had to actually get inducted as a Mother of the Church…. don't ask me why, I was drunk."

Dany and Missandei shake their heads before the queen turns her attention to the women, and tells them Marian's suggestion. Both women are clearly shocked, and the younger asks something of the queen. Dany furrows her brow, and waves a hand at Marian while explaining something. Marian gives them a smile and a thumbs up.

Both women regard her with caution, then turn back to the queen and tell her something. To Marian, it is clear that they are in no way going to be getting to know each other in the andrastian sense, but she didn't really care.

After that incident, Dany decided that having Marian as her advisor was a double edged sword, as the woman could give some good advice, but at the same time, much of her advice was mad. Barristan could attest to the fact that her father had been a madman, but apparently he had been a different type from Marian.

And then Marian proved she was damn good at being the queen's advisor when she and Missandei dragged an old man into her throne room. Though, in all honesty, it was Marian who did all of the dragging, it was clear that Missandei had a hand in whatever was about to happen. Standing the old man up, Marian happily said, "Dany, may I present to you, your tutor!"

"My tutor?" Dany raised an eyebrow testily

"Yeah," Marian nods happily, "He used to be a slave in one of the noble families of Astapor. He taught the heirs how to rule their households and all that stuff."

"You found me a tutor to help me learn to rule?"

"Well, yeah, you were complaining like two days ago about how you had no idea what the hell you were doing. I thought this would help."

Dany stands, and descends the steps to stand in front of Marian and the old man. The man bowed his head and said something in Valyrian. Marian smiled when she saw the look in Dany's eyes shift, and she smiled even wider when Dany lifted the old man's head and said something to him in that tone that she saved for when something really played at her heart strings.

After that, Marian didn't have much to do with advising the queen. Instead she was busy entertaining the dragons so they didn't start cooking people. To do this, she had managed to convince Missandei to have the Unsullied bring her any murderers.

For the next three weeks, while Dany got the hang of ruling and tried to build some sort of governing body for Astapor after she left, Marian inadvertently became the Queen's executioner. One by one, former slaves and escaped masters who decided to take some form of revenge against someone else in the city found their way in front of Marian, and the dragons. The dragons, the size of ponies now, were eager to fry and devour the men and women that were brought before them.

It took Dany a week to realize what Marian was doing, and less than an hour to decide that she should just let it happen. She was a Targaryen, and she had Dragons, so using them made perfect sense. Plus, her children were far more amenable with full stomachs, and it was an actually useful way to get rid of the murderers. She really didn't like that there were so many murders happening in Astapor, but Jorah's explanation about men and swords still rattled through her head.

In the end, it took a month for Dany to get her army to pull out. The city had settled, a new ruling council was established, she had learned how to use messenger ravens, and Marian had fed most of the more dangerous men to the dragons. Still, things may not go smoothly in her newly conquered city, and she had a force of three hundred Unsullied remain behind to keep the peace. Marian had told her how to word her orders, the mage far better at talking than her.

And so the Mother of Dragons began her march, and as they set off, Marian had to ask, "So where are we going next?"


	6. Quick Change

**The Dragon and the Hawke 6**

"We don't need to take Yunkai," Jorah notes as he, she, Marian, Barristan, and Grey Worm observe the slave city from the top of a cliff, "Taking the city will not bring you any closer to Westros or the Iron Throne."

"How many slaves are there in Yunkai?" Daenerys asks, and in front of her, Marian smiles to herself as she looks at the view before them.

Dany was using her 'my mind is made up, fuck off or help me,' voice. Jorah could never tell when the queen whipped that one out, but Marian had a decade of practice with Anders and Justice. Remembering her fellow apostate, Marian frowns in distaste. She could still recall the sight of him bleeding out from her dagger to his throat.

Marian shakes her head, and catches Dany's final statement to Jorah, "Then we have 200,000 reasons to take the city."

Turning around, Marian sees Dany giving some orders to Grey Worm, and she followed after the queen, "So what's the plan?"

"I am going to offer them a chance to surrender," Dany tells her

"And when they say no?"

"Why do you think they will say no?"

"They're slavers, and they've had things their way for thousands of years," Marian tells her, thinking of the many times she had tried the same tactic in Kirkwall, and how it had never worked. Slavers liked things their way, and fuck everyone else. Marian was glad she didn't mind killing people, otherwise killing so many slavers would probably have done something to her moral compass or conscience.

"I told Grey Worm to have the man he sends tell Yunkai that they will surrender if they do not wish to suffer the same fate as Astapor."

Marian nods, "Alright, that should at least get you somebody coming over to try and bribe you."

Dany looks over at her friend and raises an eyebrow, "How many times have you done something like this to know how they will react?"

Marian stops, and starts counting on her fingers, Dany watches as her friend runs out of fingers, followed by toes, before flicking her finger through the air for some mental math. Finally, after Marian says something about carrying the two, Dany shakes her head and notes, "A lot, then."

"Yeah," Marian nods, then smiles, "Want me to get the boys ready to put the fear of the maker into the guy they send to bribe you?"

Dany nods, "Yes, I need to talk to Missandei on how to properly receive an ambassador, so if you would?"

Marian gives a mocking salute and a genuine smile before setting off to pick up the dragons. She manages to find them after a few minutes of looking, basking in a particularly sunny patch of grass, and claps her hands, "Alright, boys, we've got bad men to scare!"

Drogon is the only one to react, opening one eye to look at Marian. He huffs, closes his eyes, and goes back to sleep. The Human Dragon thought she could order them around outside of Mother's presence and would be taught the error of her ways. Viserion and Rhaegal, though more hesitant than their larger brother to ignore her, followed his lead.

Marian for her part, simply raised an eyebrow. rolling her eyes she steps up and leans against Drogon's flank. She ignores his warning growl and laughs, patting his side, "Awe, is the little baby tired?"

Was she mocking him? Drogon's eyes popped open and his head spins to stare at the woman. She sends him a rakish grin, and shows her own teeth in response to him doing the same. Then there is a flash in the woman's eyes, and the power that let her kill older dragons is stirred.

Again, Drogon is given the unpleasant reminder that Marian was a more dangerous predator than he. As magic sparked between the two, Viserion and Rhaegal raise their own heads to watch the show, regretting their decision to follow Drogon's lead. It takes only a second for the Alpha personality to present itself, and the dragon turns his head, accepting that the human was stronger.

"Good boy!" Marian smiles and rubs Drogon's neck. The dragon gives a hiss of pleasure, then grunts in dismay as she pulls away, "C'mon guys, we've gotta go scare a bad man!"

All three dragons hop up at that, remembering the last time there was a bad man, and the veritable feast of human meat that they had enjoyed. Marian blinks at their reaction, then grimaces, "Oh… yeah… no eating him until your Momma gives the order."

The dragons chirp in disappointment, but take off anyway, as the alpha ordered, and fly towards where they can feel their mother. Dany, in her own sense, turns to her children as they approach, and tells Missandei to have the unsullied get into possition.

The dragons land in front of her, all three rushing around her, trying to grab her attention, and she smiles and runs a hand over Drogon's head, then Viserion's, then Rhaegal's. Each gives a chirp of glee at her gentle touch, and the Mother of Dragons sighs. She turns her attention to Marian, who has just managed to get around a tent and was walking towards her.

Marian, seeing Dany's expression, stops and tries to think of what she might have done this time. Not able to figure anything out, she walks over to her friend and her kids and asks, "What did I do this time?"

"I was going to ask you that very question," Dany tells her pointedly

Marian tilts her head, then shakes it, "Can't think of anything bad I've done recently… but, then again, you usually give me that look whenever I've done anything…"

"Precisely," Dany nods, "So what have you done this time?"

Marian shrugs, still not sure where she could have caused any trouble

"The dragons," Dany indicates as Drogon nuzzles her hand far more insistently than he had for the entire trip to Yunkai.

"Oh!" Marian realizes, "I told them they could eat the bad guy only on your say so."

"Bad guy?" Dany raises an eyebrow at the childish moniker describing the slavers

"Well, yeah, the guy they're sending is a slaver, isn't he?"

"Indeed."

"So, yeah, bad guy."

Dany sighs, shaking her head, then turns to adress her children,"As much as I would like to feed him to you, I have no need of him."

Rhaegal, who grasps that Mother had told them no faster than his brothers, chuffs in disappointment before slinking over to his nest in the command tent. Drogon is the second to understand, flops onto the ground, sulking at the fact that he won't get to eat anyone today. Viserion isn't as disappointed in the lack of eating bad guys, instead just enjoying the feel of Mother getting right behind his ear ridges.

Dany looks down at Drogon, scared by his belly flop onto the hard dirt, but Marian waves her off to go get ready for her meeting. As the Mother of Dragons departs, Marian sits down next to the black dragon and scratches his head.

Drogon turns his head slightly, and his eyes tell her of hurt feelings and a sense of betrayal. Marian rubs under his chin and tells him, "Don't feel that way, Drogon. Your mother wasn't the one to promise you bad guys, I was."

The dragon flicks his head to the side, and his neck snakes around to stare at her more fully. Marian gives him a rueful smile, "Yeah, I know, I shouldn't promise things for Dany, but then again, when has she ever disappointed you?"

Drogon lays his head back on her lap as he considers her words. Mother had never lied to her, never been cruel as the scortched bald men had. It seemed that Mother was the only one who saw that he and his brothers were the better creatures to humans. Marian was okay, but she was a dragon too, so she didn't count in favor of the humans. In fact, in Drogon's thinking, the only good beast was a dragon.

When she caught the contemplative gleam to Drogon's eyes, Marian smiled, sure that she had just one a great battle of wills against yet another creature smarter than her. Patting him on the head, she tells him, "Come on, let's go scare a slaver."

Drogon watches as Marian stands and walks towards the tent that Mother sits in, and he flaps his wings and hops after her. They spend three hours waiting for the emissary to arrive. To pass the time, Marian starts teaching Missandei to juggle, then she tries to teach Grey Worm. Surprisingly, the Commander of the Unsullied manages to catch on to the skill quickly, and soon he and Marian are showing off for the amusement of everyone else in the tent.

Dany watches, and not for the first time, realizes that she is terribly glad to have the mage as a companion. Grey Worm was a serious man, a stoic man, and after less than an hour of personal interaction with Marian, he was smiling softly. It wasn't a big thing, barely an upturning of his lips, but it was enough to let Dany know that her friend was needed.

Unfortunately, the juggling had to stop as the emissary approached. Grey Worm replaced his helmet on his head, Marina sat down on the ground, leaning up against Dany's throne and started playing with a ball of fire, and everyone else got into their own positions to start putting on the show.

As the Emissary wa carried up to the tent by a party of slaves, Marian frowned, and the gleeful ball of fire in her hand started to morph into a crackling ball of spiking electricity. The emissary was able to see this even from his seat, the height of his position, and the blue light of the lightning helping him see the armored woman playing with magic as easily as he breathed.

He had to be given credit though, that wasn't when he shat his pants. He stepped off of his chair and strode forward as Missandei introduced him, "Now Comes the noble Razdal mo Eraz, of that ancient and honorable house, master of men, and speaker to savages, to offer terms of peace."

While she had been speaking, the slave lord had been striding confidently towards Daenerys. As Missandei finished speaking, Rhaegal turned his gaze towards the bad man he was not allowed to eat, and hisses in anger.

Razdal stomps and takes a terrified step backwards before Dany places a calming hand on Rhaegal's neck. The dragon, staring at the slaver with a terrifying combination of boiling rage, demented hatred, and stomach churning hunger, lowers his head to the ground. Razdal, petrified, only moves when Marian points out, "I smell shit… did he shit himself?"

"I believe he did," Dany smiles as the emissary turns to look at her with a mixture of fear and anger. The two gaze at each other levelly as Missandei lists off all of Daenerys's titles, and when she finishes, Dany tells him, "You may approach. Sit."

The message is clear to Razdal. The invader had displayed her power, and her unwillingness to deal with any form of flattery or blustering that he may have started the talks with. He sat carefully in the chair that was placed before him and took the wine that Missandei offered him.

He took a sip, then placed the goblet he had been given on the ground before speaking, "Ancient and glorious is Yunkai, our empire was old before dragons stirred in old Valyria, many an army has broken against our walls. You will find no easy conquest here, Khaleesi."

Dany's response is simple, she reaches to her side, and pulls out a slide of meat from a horse that had died the day before. She tosses it into the air, where it is struck by a blast of lightning from Marian before Viserion snatches it out of the air. The dragon gleefully chomps on the meat as he stares at the slaver he wasn't allowed to eat, imagining the meat he was chewing was that of the bad guy in front of him.

Razdal swallows, and his teeth clench when the mage calls out, "Yep, he definitely smells like shit."

Marian chuckles at the fact that they managed to get the guy to shit his robes twice before they'd even gotten to the proper threats. Dany, as well smiles, "I was told that i should blood my unsullied earlier, and it is clear that you find my children and my mage terrifying. Why not save yourself and your fellow slave masters a terrible death?"

"There is no need," Razdal tells her, and claps his hands. Four slaves carrying two chests approach and set their burdens on either side of the queen, opening them, solid bars of gold are revealed, "The Wise Masters of Yunkai extend a gift, gold, and more on the deck of your ship."

"My ship?" Dany asks

"He wants us to fuck off," Marian notes, raising an eyebrow at Razdal, "He thinks he can buy you."

"Does he?" Dany leans back, "Do you?"

"Yes," Razdal growls out, "The Wise Masters will gift you with any number of ships so that you may sail from here. Return to Westeros so that we may conduct our business in peace."

Dany sighs, turning her head away from Razdal as he speaks, and her eyes catch on one of the slaves he had brought with him. The slave was trembling, terrified, of either her or Razdal. It did not matter which, only that he not be afraid for long, "I have a gift for you, as well."

Razdal straightens, clearly believing that Dany will agree to take her armies and leave. He was sorely disappointed by what Daenerys Targaryen decided to gift him with, "You life."

"My life?"

"And those of your Wise Masters," Dany elaborates, "Surrender your city and you will be allowed to live."

Razdal growls, jumping to his feet and toppling the chair, "How dare-"

"I'd like to point out that if you don't agree, I get to feed you to Drogon feet first!" Marian points out, raising a finger

The wind is immediately taken from Razdal's sails, but he manages to get himself together and narrows his eyes, "i was promised safe passage."

"And you shall receive it," Dany nods, "But once you are back in your walls, you will no longer be safe from my word. Tell your masters of my terms, you have until sundown tomorrow to reply. If you do not, I will assume that you do not surrender, and will be forced to take your city and your lives."

Razdal snarls, "Yunkai has friends! Powerful friends! You will break on our walls! Just a every army has before! Take the gold!"

The slaves step forward, but Rhaegal gives a warning growl, his head lifting from the throne to stare at them. Dany raises an eyebrow at Razdal and notes, "the gold was a gift, one I will put to good use. Be sure to tell the Wise Masters that I thank them."

Razdal's lips twitch, his face contorting in an ugly manner before he spins and stalks back to his chair. He growls in his native tongue as he sits down.

As he was leaving, Marian tilts her head, and asks, "any idea what he meant by friends?"

Dany looks to Jorah, who seems to know the most about Essos of all the people with her, and he shakes his head, "I don't know."

"Find out," Dany tells him, leaning back with a sigh, petting Rhaegal's head as she closes her eyes.

Before she can drift off into a nap, Marian asks, "Hey, I meant to asks, why did you change your robe?"


	7. Apples

**The Dragon and the Hawke 7**

It took Jorah three days to find who the Yunkai's friends. He had not even told Daenerys their name before she was demanding to be shown them. The old knight took her, Barristan, Grey Worm, and a contingent of Unsullied to go look at the forces brought against her.

As they observed an approaching team of horses, Barristan makes his distaste for mercenaries known, "Those who fight for gold have neither honor nor loyalty, they cannot be trusted."

Dany nods, an idea forming in her head. Turning to Jorah, she asks, "Do you know who they are?"

"Only by the broken swords on their banners," Jorah tells her, "They call themselves the Second Sons, and are led by a Bravosi named Mero. They call him the Titan's Bastard."

Dany snorts, "He is neither titan nor bastard."

"He's a dangerous man, Khaleesi. They all are."

"How many?"

"2,000, your grace, armored and mounted."

"Enough to make a difference?"

Looking at Barristan, it is clear that he wants to say yes, but a contemplative gleam in his eye tells Dany he isn't so sure that is the case. After a moment he tells her, "Enough to make a dent."

Dany raises an eyebrow, but nods. She knows as well as he that Marian and the Dragons are probably worth more than the entire army at her back, and she was glad to have them. Turning to Jorah, she tells him, "Call a meeting with this Mero. It is hard to collect wages from a corpse."

"He may not agree to meet," Barristan points out

"He will," Dany tells him, stepping back and turning, pointing out as she does, "We've got dragons, Marian, and a sellsword can't afford to be beaten by a girl."

On the subject of Marian, while the warriors and Daenerys were discussing the Second Sons, the mage was talking with Missandei. Sitting upside down in a plushy chair she had looted from a town that they'd liberated a few miles back, Marian looks at Missandei as the former slave calmly raises an eyebrow at her, sipping a bit of wine, "I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?"

Missandei sets her goblet down and peers at the oddly positioned mage in front of her, "By what would I be made uncomfortable?"

"Well I've spent the last six weeks trying to get you out of your dress," Marian shrugs, which ends up toppling the her and he lands flat on the ground, now looking strait up at Missandei from the ground, "It just hit me that trying to seduce you may be, I don't know, wrong? So I wanna check and see if you want me to stop."

Missandei simply gives her a small smile before leaving the tent.

Marian blinks, staring up at the canvas roof of the tent. She lays there for several minutes before a new figure is made itself known. Turning her head, Marian sees Dany. The Mother of Dragons is looking at her friend lying on the dirt and asks, "Are you alright?"

"I think Missy is okay with me trying to get her naked," Marian tells her with a wide grin.

Dany rolls her eyes, "You have been trying to seduce her for more than a month, and you just now asked if she was fine with you making the attempt?"

"Yeah, only figured it out like an hour ago," Marian nods.

Dany extends a hand to help her friend up. Marian takes it and once she is on her feet she starts brushing the stray dirt from her leathers, "So, what's up?"

"Yunkai has hired a mercenary company, the Second Sons," Dany explains, "I plan on meeting with the companies captains, and buying their service."

"Ooh! Mercenaries?" Marian smiles wide, "I speak fluent mercenary!"

Dany raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Marian nods, "I worked as a merc for a few years."

"You were a mercenary?"

"I've been a lot of things," Marian shugs

"Then you will be very useful in my talks with Mero, the Titan's Bastard."

"Oh, fuck, he's got a title," Marian sighs

"Is that bad?"

"It means he's gonna have a very strong personality."

"This is bad?"

"Could be," Marian nods, "Depends on how he got the Bastard added to his title."

"You think he was just the Titan at some point?"

Marian nods, then shrugs, "Well, we'll figure out how he got his title once we meet him."

Dany nods, "On that subject, come."

The former champion of Kirkwall follows Dany to the meeting tent and grabs an apple from the table. She starts in on it a three men are brought into the tent by Barristan, "Your grace, allow me to introduce the Captains of the Second Sons; Mero of Braavos, Prendahl na Ghezn, and… uh…"

"Daario Naharis," The final man introduces himself as Barristan flounders.

Barristan nods, and steps back as the Titan's Bastard steps forward, "You're the Mother of Dragons?"

Dany tilts her head in a nod, a smug smile tugging at her lips. There is a brief moment of hope that things will go a she wants before Mero notes, "Swear I fucked you once in a pleasure house in Lys."

"Mind your tongue," Jorah growls

"Why? I didn't mind hers," Mero chuckles as he sits down next to Dany, she gives a wave for Jorah to calm as the big man sits, "She licked my ass like she was born to do it!"

He wags his tongue at her suggestively, and she can't help but snort slightly at the ridiculousness of it. The man acted like Marian, with all of the swagger and self assurance that her best friend managed to embody. Used to the behavior, Dany rolls her eyes and then spots her friend with her feet up on the table, chewing on her apple. The mage nods and smiles at her in encouragement.

Mero, relaxing back, looks over at Missandei, and tells her, "You, slave girl, some wi-"

Marian's apple smacks him in the face. He blinks in shock, and he along with everyone else in the room turn to the mage, who smiles and levitates a new apple into her hand and takes a bite. The loud crunch is the only sound anyone makes before Dany tells Mero, "We have no slaves here."

Mero chuckles and his head lolls as he laughs out, "You'll all be slaves after the battle. Unless I save you!"

Dany quirks an eyebrow at him.

The big man smiles at her and offers, "take your clothes off and sit in Mero's lap, and i may give you my Second Sons."

"Give me your Second Sons," Dany tells him, "And I may not have you gelded."

"Dibs!"

Again, eyes move to Marian, who waves cheerfully as she cooks a slice of apple and pops it into her mouth. Mero snorts, "And who's this then? Another whore from Lys?"

Marian raises an eyebrow, "Call me a whore again, and we'll see who gets some pleasure."

Dany leans forward, "I would like to introduce Marian Hawke, the Mad Mage."

"Mage?" Daario Naharis quiries

"Yep, magic and shit!" Marian nods, snapping a finger and conjuring a small ball of flame.

Prendahl's eyes widen, and he starts to subtly pray under his breath. Mero laughs, "A right challenge then!"

Marian snorts, "I could fry you in the blink of an eye."

"And if I got close enough to get your arms in my grasp?"

"Well… assuming by that point I haven't already cut your nuts off," Marian waves a hand at Dany, "I'd kick ya there."

Mero laughs, "This one I like!"

Dany smiles indulgently, then asks, "So, will you fight for me?"

"We taken the slaver's gold," Mero shakes his head, accepting a goblet of wine that Missandei passes him, "We fight for Yunkai."

"I can pay you as much and more," Dany points out, narrowing her eyes as Mero leans it to sniff at Missandei.

She sighs as another apple smacks into his face before he can get to close. The mercenary turns an angry eye towards Marian, who smiles at him and tells him, "Mine."

Mero blinks, then laughs, as Prendahl tells Daenerys, "Our Contract is our Bond, If we break our bond, no one will hire the Second Sons again."

Marian snorts, "You work for us, you won't need to get hired again!"

"Marian, enough," Dany shakes her head, looking to each of the mercenaries in turn, she notes, "She is correct, though. Should you chose to fight for me, you need never lift a sword for another. You will have gold, land, and women aplenty by the time I am done."

Mero shrugs, Daario gives a small, smug little smile, and Prendahl merely shakes his head. Seeing that she has not won them over, she sighs, "You have two days to decide."

Mero leans forward, and tells her, "Show me your cunt, I want to see if it's worth fighting for."

Marian smacks her face, Jorah and Barristan's hands inch towards their swords, every Unsullied present turns to glare at the Titan's Bastard, Grey Worm in particular is angered. The Commander asks for the privaledge of ending Mero' life, and Dany just smiles, telling him to calm himself before turning to Mero, "You seem to be enjoying my wine, perhaps you'd like a flagon to help you ponder?"

"And what are my brothers to drink?" Mero asks

"A barrel then."

"Perfect," Mero stands and starts to walk out of the tent. As Daario passes him, he turns back to the dragon queen, "In the Second Sons we share everything, mayhaps, after the battle, we'll all share you."

He gives her a big grin and is hit in the face with another apple. He turns to look at Marian, who is already holding another apple. She smiles at him benignly, as though she had not thrown three apples into his face. The Titan's Bastard takes a menacing step towards her, but stops as a fourth apple is tossed to him.

This one he catches, and has to drop. Looking down at the apple, he sees it steaming, and burnt. Looking back up at Marian, he eyes her more warily than before, and backs out of the tent. Marian smiles to herself, and chews on her fifth apple.

After the mercenaries are out of earshot, Dany narrows her eyes, and turns to Marian, "He reminded me far too much of you."

Marian shrugs, "He was a bit more of a dick than I am, but we've got the same personality type."

Dany nods, then turns to Barristan, "Ser Barristan, if it does come to Battle, kill that one first."

"Gladly, your grace," the old knight nods.

"Hey!" Marian interject, "i'm the one who called dibs!"

"Dibs?" Barristan asks

"Yeah, it means I get first shot," Marian explains

The Queensguard smiles, "Well, then, I suppose the game is on."

Marian hops out of her chair, and raises a hand, "High five!"

Dany rubs her eyes at her friend's cavalier attitude.


	8. The Face That Says

**The Dragon and the Hawke 8**

Bathing was something that Dany thoroughly enjoyed. The feel of the water washing away a day's worth of stress, covering her in a smooth embrace as she leaned her head back and relaxed. She even liked the company, listening to Missandei told her her life's story one snippet at a time.

"You know nineteen languages?" Dany asks her friend as Missandei runs her sponge over her neck, "I can't imagine knowing nineteen languages."

"It is not so difficult," Missandei notes modestly, "After all, you yourself learnt Dothraki relatively well in only a few short months."

Dany nods, and leans her head forwards as the sponge rubs up and down the back of her neck, and moans to herself, not even realizing that she was speaking aloud, "Oh, if Marian had not lain claim, I would do so now…"

The sponge stops moving, and Dany opens her eyes, blinking, "I said that aloud, didn't I?"

"Yes," Missandei tells her, moving back to the soap basin.

Dany turns to look at her friend, "I, sorry, I am making your job more difficult than it has to be."

"It is fine, your grace," Missandei tells her, "You are not the first to find me enticing, but I know, that like with Marian, you would not force me."

Dany's eyes widen, "Never!"

Missandei smiles at her gently and starts back at her task, "I do not mind the affection from your Mage, I wish that she would stop, on occasion, but I am flattered."

"Yes, she certainly staked her claim, didn't she?"

Both women turn their attention to the new presence in their tent, both jumping in fright. Standing at the tent flap is an unsullied soldier, but Dany sees that at his hips are blades that are not traditionally held by her soldiers. She flicks her eyes up to the man's help, and sees that he is removing it.

Daario Naharis smiles at her as the helmet is dropped to the floor, and he bows his head, "Your grace."

Dany leans back in her tub, glaring at Daario, "I take it you are here with the response from the Second Sons on my generous offer?"

"I am," Daario nods, smiling again. He reaches over to the table that had been set for Dany's evening snack and takes one of the goblets of wine and sips, "My captains and I disagreed on several things in regards to you, of course."

"And what did you disagree on?"

"You beauty," he tells her, flashing her a charming smile

Dany rolls her eyes, and presses on, used to the more charming behaviors of Marian and does not let herself feel more than flattered by Daario's complement, "And what else?"

"On whether or not we should kill you," Daario tells her honestly

Dany stands from her tub, waving a hand for Missandei to get her a robe, and steps out of the tub. She dons the robe and ties it as she asks, "And what was decided?"

"They wished for me to kill you," Daario tells her, "I wished not to, and so they drew their swords. I drew mine in return."

"And at the end of it?"

Daario pulls a bag off his shoulder and drops it to the ground, from the bag rolls the heads of Mero and Prendahl. The mercenary then drops to one knee and draws his sword. Laying it on his knee, he looks up at Dany and tells her, "The Second Sons are yours, my queen."

Dany smiles, happy to have avoided a serious battle, but then Missandei asks, "Where did you procure your armor?"

The queen looks to her friend, and narrows her eyes when they return to Daario. The man raises an easy hand and tells her, "The Second Sons have had to infiltrate the ranks of the Unsullied before, we have many spare types of armor for just such an occasion."

Dany nods, satisfied, then waves her hand for him to stand. Turning to Missandei she tells her, "Summon Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan, they should be told of our new allies immediately."

Missandei nods and exits the tent, leaving Daario and Dany alone. The two eye each other for a moment, until Dany asks, "so what was your opinion on my beauty?"

Morning came with the rising sun, and across the camp, Rhaegal wakes and slaps Marian with his tail to wake her. The mage gives a squawk of surprise and falls off a rock she had managed to fall asleep against staring at a camp fire.

Hopping up, Marian looks at her dragon companion, who is giving her a dark look. Patting him on the head she tells him, "Alright, go wake your brothers, I'll find your breakfast."

Rhaegal snorts in agreement and flaps his wings, taking off towards where his brothers have nested. Marian watches him fly off, then takes a slower pace after him, grabbing the barrel of horse meat that had been prepared for them and levitating it in front of her. Once she reaches the dragons, Drogon and Viserion only just pulling their heads off the ground to look at their brother with irritation, she whistles to get their attention and sets the barrel on fire before setting it in front of them, "Breakfast is served!"

With the dragons happily feasting on their meal, Marian set off to the command tent to break her own fast. She skipped through the camp, waving at the few unsullied who she had managed to get to know as more than the faceless soldiers of Dany's army. She also said hello to a few of the Dothraki she had managed to become friends with. All in all she entered the command tent in high spirits.

She stopped right at the entrance and blinked at the extra face at the command table, "Aren't you with the Second Sons?"

Daario Naharis turns to her, and smile, "Indeed, Lady Hawke, and now the Second Sons serve the Queen."

Marian blinks, frowns, then looks sidelong at Grey Worm and asks, "I missed something, didn't I?"

The stoic soldier nods, his grasp of the common tongue having grown considerably over the past month and change weeks. He was not well versed enough to speak it, but he could understand it well enough. Marian smiles at him in thanks, and he gives her one of his rare smiles in return.

"So!" Marian claps her hands, "What exactly have I missed?"

"Daario has slain Mero and Prendahl na Ghenz to take control of the Second Sons," Dany tells her, "And he has sworn them to me."

"You killed Mero?" Marian pouts at Daario

"It was that or let him do the same to me," the mercenary shrugs.

"Ah! That's alright then!" Marian smiles, and sidles around him and looks down at the map on the war table, "So what are we talking about?"

"How I will gift Yunkai to the Queen to prove my loyalty," Daario tells her.

"Woah, you're getting her a city?" Marian whistles, "My last girlfriend just named her pirate ship after me!"

Daario raises an eyebrow, and turns to look at Dany with a smug expression on his face. The Queen merely gives him the same small smile that she has since the evening before before looking back down at the map, "So… here?"

Daario takes her hand and moves it a few inches to the left, "Here."

"Here what?" Marian asks

"A back entrance to the city," Daario turns to her, then to the other men at the table, "My men use it when they enter the city to visit the pleasure houses."

"Your men, but not you?" Jorah raises an eyebrow

"I have no use for slaves," Daario tells him, and looks down at Dany as he adds, "A man cannot make love to property."

"I can't fit an army through a backdoor," Dany raises an eyebrow at him

"Not what I had in mind," Daario says, walking back around the table to pat Marian, Jorah, and then the table, "I will take a small team to the door, gain access. The guards know me, they'll let me in. Once I am in, I will call the rest of the team, we will enter, and open the main gates of the city from within to allow your army to march in."

"Or you could be leading me, Hawke, and Grey Worm into a trap," Jorah growls out.

"Why would I do this?" Daario asks, "I do what you say, and there is still an army outside these walls. I do what you say, and I anger the two most dangerous women alive. I have no interest in doing so."

Jorah frowns, then turns to Grey Worm, "What do you think?"

Grey worm furrows his brow, clearly confused. Dany then tells him something in his native tongue, and he nods. He looks Daario up and down, narrows his eyes, then looks back at his queen and nods, giving his accent. Marian just gives a thumbs up in agreement.

Jorah nods and starts to leave the tent, "We best prepare, then."

"Ser Jorah," Barristan stops him before he is fully out the door, "You could use an extra sword."

"You are the Queensguard, Barristan," Jorah tells him, "Your place is by the Queen's side."

Barristan nods, unhappy but accepting.

Grey Worm, Jorah, and Daario exit the tent to prepare for the evening festivities. Marian, on the other hand, slides up next to the queen and asks, "So… you gonna do the nasty with him?"

Dany blinks and turns to Marian, "What?"

"He's giving you that look that says 'I have rocked many worlds, I wish to rock yours'" Marian tells her, "Plus, he's setting the price of banging you at conquering a city."

"Perhaps," Dany shrugs, "Nothing can come of it, but I am the queen, who is to say I may not indulge?"

"That's the spirit!" Marian gives her friend a hug and tells her, "Ah, it's nice to see I'm having such a good influence on you!"

"I wouldn't call it good exactly," Dany tells her friend with a roll of her eyes

"Ooh, scathing," Marian chuckles, then she lets go of the Mother of Dragons and tells her, "Anyway, I gotta go get my staff! People to kill, fires to start, cities to loot and all that!"


	9. It's Raining!

**The Dragon and the Hawke 9**

"So how are we gonna do this?" Marian asks as she peeks over a low wall at the back entrance into Yunkai.

"I will approach, enter, and kill the guards," Daario tells him, "When i whistle, you will know it is safe to approach. You hear a songbird's whistle it is safe to come."

Marian nods, and lowers her head below the wall, "Off you go then! We'll be waiting."

Daario nods and steps out from behind the wall, there is a shout from the guard at the gate. The mercenary slays his hands and calls his own name in return and the guard relaxes. Marian, Jorah, and Grey Worm watch as the guard pushes the door open and Daario follows him in.

They stand waiting for no more than half a minute before there is a whistle, then a second to confirm the all clear. Jorah takes the lead, sword drawn. Marian goes in second, her staff held easily in one hand as she strode in through the open doorway. Grey Worm took the rear, spear at the ready.

After they pass through a walled path, Jorah spins around the right corner while Marian goes left. Both nearly add insult to injury for the dead men on either side, but hold themselves back and turn their eyes to look for Daario. The mercenary was sitting on an upturned wagon and cleaning his blade.

Nodding his head, he indicates the dead man near Jorah, "That one was quick, I was quicker."

"There may be others," Jorah tells him, approaching as Grey Worm begins to circle the courtyard. Marian, for her part, follows Jorah and tilts her head as she thinks she hears something.

"I doubt it," Daario shakes his head, standing and turning, not noticing the men slowly trying to sneak through an alley towards them, "The Yunkish prefer to have their slaves do their fighting."

Marian spots the approaching soldiers and twirls her staff at the sight of them. See that they have been spotted, the soldiers shout and rush into the courtyard. Soon enough, the foursome of invaders are surrounded on all sides.

It takes only a heartbeat for the fight to start, with one of the soldier jumping at Jorah, who expertly diverts the man's shield then stabs him in the back.

As Jorah kills his opponent, Grey Worm twirls his spear, sending a pair of Yunkish guards backing up quickly so as not to get hurt. A quick switch in style and Grey Worm stabs one, and then the other of the guards.

Behind the Unsullied Commander, Daario is having also a fine time to ending his own attackers. One tries to stab him in the side and he diverts the man's blade before slicing his belly open. Another tries to stab him while he is ending his first opponent but his Dothraki sword loops around the man's blade and cuts his hand. The blade is dropped and the guard's throat is cut.

Marian, for her own part, is smiling as she slaps her opponents away from herself with her staff. Three men fall back from the twirling stick of wood, one already smarting from a smash in the face. While they fall back, Marian drags the bottom of her staff along the ground and a wave of dirt is carried up with the edge of the staff. The dirt forms a fist and she launches it at one of her opponents, who flies back. The second she zaps with electricity, and the last she points at and he falls down dead.

The three men turn to her when they are finished with their opponents, thinking that Marian would need help, and each is surprised to see that her attackers were dead. Daario, who had managed to see the third man die, was very glad that he had elected to ally his Second Sons with the Queen. Jorah was happy that he hadn't made a mistake in bringing the Mad Mage with the team, and Grey Worm simply nodded, accepting her skill as another thing of note about the woman.

A second wave of Yunkish arrives with a roar of feet and voices, and Marian sighs. Turning to Daario, she tells him, "I'm going to slap you once we're done."

She then taps her staff to the ground, and fire rains down upon the advancing soldiers. There are screams of pain and terror as men are blown off their feet, set aflame, or see their friends and comrades do one of those. Jorah, Daario, and Grey Worm look around with wide eyes as their party stands safely in a circle around which fire destroys the wave that had tried to take them out after the first one failed.

After the last of the fire falls, Marian looks around. There are only a few Yunkish still alive, and most are moaning in pain. One had managed not to get hit by the fire and was standing against a wall, petrified. The Mage steps up to him and presses her staff into his chest, "Take me to your leaders."

The man babbles something, and Marian frowns. Turning to Daario, she says, "Tell this guy that he is to take us to the wise masters or I will melt his face off and make him eat it."

Daario raises an eyebrow, but complies. Marian's nose twitches as the scent of feces hits her nose, but she pushes past it as the man nods. She removes her staff from his chest and he starts to lead her and the men through the city.

Jorah is the first to note the change in plans, "We are not following the original plan?"

"Nope," Marian shakes her head, "I wanna conquer a city!"

"The plan will put us in less danger," Daario points out

Marian gives him a sidelong look, then shrugs, "Alright, fine, you guys go do the plan, I'll kill the wise masters and claim the city as mine."

"Will you be alright on your own?" Jorah asks

"I'll be fine," Marian waves him off as she roasts a guard who had been trying to sneak up on them, scaring their guide even more than he already was. The man pisses himself and starts praying in his native tongue as Daario and Jorah agree to split up. Grey Worm gives her a nod, sure of her ability to hold her own.

The three men run off to open the main gates to the city as Marian is led into the heart of the city. It is surprising how few people she has to kill on the way to the main house of power in the city. The guard that had led her there took her through back hallways and side doors until she was in front of a large wood door carved with careful intricacy. The man falls to his knees waving his hands at the door, and obviously begging for his life. Marian waves him away and he scurries off.

Looking up at the great doors in front of her, Marian can just imagine the Slavers having their property open the doors for them as they strode in. Probably three or four to a door by the looks of them. Shaking her head, Marian thrusts her hand forward and the doors are blasted open. There is shouting from the other end, and guards rush out.

Marian tosses bolts of lightning at the guards and then steps over their twitching corpses as she steps into a massive circular room. There are not many men in the room, but it is clear that they hold the power in Yunkai. The Mage smiles at them and says, "Greetings from Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains, I am here to accept your lives as payment for surrender."

"Excuse me?" One of the Masters sputters, "Who do you think you are?"

"I am Lady Marian Hawke, the Queen's personal Mage," Marian tells him with a smile, then, "In a matter of hours, your city will be lost, the first of you to declare the surrender of Yunkai will be spared while I kill the rest of you."

"What!" another master demands

"It is quite simple," Marian smiles indulgently as she throws a fireball behind her, and the screams of the guards that had been advancing on her from behind add weight to her next words, "I hate slavers, My Queen hates slavers, and our army is made of former slaves. You, Wise Masters of Yunkai, are what we hate more than anything else. You will die, but if one of you surrenders, he will be spared the fate that i will visit upon the rest."

The hall breaks into angry shouts in native tongues, and Marian rolls her eyes. After a minute of their shouting, she tilts her head as she hears the sound of approaching battle and smiles. The Wise Masters fall silent as she raises a single hand with all her fingers and her thumb slayed.

They watch as first her pinky, then her ring finger descend, and finally some get it. Once more, angry calls erupt from the Masters, before finally, just as Marian's thumb is about to go down, one calls out, "Yunkai surrenders!"

Marian lowers her hand and smiles at the Master that had shouted in the common tongue. The man was being glared at by his compatriots, but seemed unrepentant. With a smirk, he nods to Marian and stands, stepping back from his seat, "I have no wish to die, Queen's Mage Hawke, Yunkai Surrenders to the Dragon Queen."

Marian gives him a thumbs up, "Congratulations, you get to live!"

And then she smacks her staff onto the floor and lightning fills the room, and the sound of thunder eclipses all else.

Back at Dany's camp, she and Missandei watch as Barristan takes a sip of wine, and she asks, "We've been waiting a long time, haven't we?"

Barristan turns to look at both girls, and gives them a rueful smile and a shrug. He sips more of his wine and Dany descends from her throne to stand in front of him, "Oh, I don't know! How long does it take to sack a city?"

Missandei lays a reassuring hand on Dany's shoulder. The queen turns her head and smiles at her advisor in thanks for the silent support, and sees in her companion's eyes what she is feeling herself.

Before she can offer her own assurances, there is the sound of approaching footsteps and Jorah steps into the tent, followed by Grey Worm. The Knight, smiles at her, ignoring the blood on his face as he tells her, "It was incredible, I can scarcely believe it… Their slave soldiers threw down their weapons and surrendered by the dozens. And the masters did not believe it until it was too late."

Dany smiles, having expected this turn of events. She blinks though, as she realizes that two people are missing from the returning party, "And… Daario Naharis?... and…?"

"Marian?" Missandei questions quietly, prempting Dany's own utterance of her friend's name.

Both women look at Jorah and Grey Worm with a mixture of hope and dread, not sure if their friends and possible lovers have managed to survive the battle. Before Jorah can offer reassurances to their health, though, they make themselves known as Marian calls from a dozen yards away in the dark, "We're fine!"

Dany and Missandei sag in relief as Daario and Marian enter the tent, Marian with a hand on a man's shoulder and Daario with a strip of cloth under his arm. First, Daario steps forward, and kneels in front of Dany. Smiling up at her, he unfurls the cloth to reveal Yunkai's Banner, "My, Queen, the city is yours."

Dany nods, then turns to Marian with an eyebrow raised in question. The Mage smiles and pushes the man forward, "This is Feldy, he's the last of the Wise Masters, he surrendered the city to us."

The man drops slowly to his knees, and bows his head, "Your grace, Yunkai submits to your rule."

Dany smiles down at the man, then turns to Marian, "Feldy?"

"I do not think she can pronounce my proper name, your grace," the now named Feldy tells her

"He's right," Marian shrugs, "I can't."


	10. Consorting

**The Dragon and the Hawke 10**

"Why are we sitting on a rock?" Marian asks, tilting her head backwards to look at Dany, "There have to be more comfortable places than this."

"You are the one sitting on the rock," Dany rolls her eyes at her friend as she stands atop the tallest stone in front of Yunkai. Arrayed around her were her captains and advisors, and before them was a line of her Unsullied, and behind her was the rest of her army. Marian was the only one sitting on the rock.

They had been waiting in front of Yunkai for an hour before Marian asked her question, and it was an hour more before Dany began to dishearten. She had freed the slaves of the city, but they did not come out. They could be afraid? They could have been content? Why did they not come out?

"They will come, your Grace," Ser Barristan tells her, seeing her distress, "In their own time."

"Maybe they didn't want to be conquered," Dany thinks aloud

"You didn't conquer them," Ser Jorah shakes his head, "You liberated them!"

Dany is not consoled, though, thinking of her time with Drogo and Viserys before that, "People learn to love their chains."

But then, the doors to the city are opened. Dany stares, a small smile creepy across her face as she watches the former slaves of Yunkai move towards her. The stream of people does not even begin to abate before the crowd reaches Dany and her entourage.

There is a moment as they reach that the slaves stop almost in unison only five feet from the line of unsullied. The reason for their stop is clear to Dany and her advisors; the unsullied had lowered their spears to point at the advancing slaves.

Seeing this, Marian hops off of her seat on the rock and walks up to the line. She taps the nearest Unsullied and tells him, "It's alright."

The man nods nearly imperceptibly and raises his spear once more, the other unsullied follow suit. Marian smiles at the thousands upon thousands of people mobbed together, and those who see her smile back happily.

As Marian is stopping the spear point, Missandei starts to monologue about the greatness that is Daenerys Targaryen to the freed slaves. As she reaches the climax of her monologue, about how they owe her their freedom, Dany stops her.

Looking across the crowd, she begins to make her own speech, this one about how the slaves all deserved to free themselves, how they should not look to her to free them. The speech is loud, and stirring, and hits on every point that she wanted to get across to the people she had freed.

Marian smiled at her friend, happy that her and Missandei seemed to have come up with some sort of gameplan about how they should speechify the locals. Though she didn't understand a lick of what was being said, she liked the looks of the former slaves that had managed to reach the front.

They were smiling, and their smiles were getting wider and wider, until then dropped them and more contemplative looks to their place as Dany finished her speech. Marian watched them, curious to see what they were thinking.

It only took a minute, and then from the middle of the crowd, "Mhysa!"

The call was joined by another, then another, then another. Until every freed slave of Yunkai was crying out to Dany, and reaching towards her. Marian looked back at her friend, curious to see her reaction to this incredibly positive if unintelligible response.

Dany, for her part, asks Missandei what the word meant, and the multilingual woman smiles at her and tells her,"It is old Ghiscari, Khaleesi. It means Mother."

Dany's eyes widen, and her eyebrows fly up as she looks at the freed slaves in a new light. She watches as they try to get closer to her, but are stopped by the Unsullied as her soldiers again lower their spears.

She does not want that though, and she steps down from her high perch towards her new people. She walks to her line of Unsullied and tells them to raise their spears as she passes them. She walks through the slaves, smiling at every face she sees.

They reach out to touch her, their symbol of the new lives they would live under her rule. Better lives, they hoped, but never again in chains. Those that can reach her, slide their hands over her and she does not move away for any reason but to reach more of them. Eventually, the Khaleesi is in the middle of their crowd and they close in on her.

Jorah and Barristan tense and Daario narrows his eyes, but Marian and the former slaves Missandei and Grey Worm are not worried. The former slaves of Astapor see the Yunish and know the love that those men feel for the queen is as they feel it. Marian for her part, couldn't see Dany getting mobbed, having been surrounded and gang hugged herself.

The people hugging her are calling something else, not 'Mhysa,' but a longer and more complicated word that Marian has no hope of understanding. Before she can try and call out to Missandei for a translation, though, she is lifted off her feet, and onto the shoulders of two burly ex slaves with a whoop and a laugh.

Looking around from her new vantage, she sees Dany getting the same treatment. Except with the slaves around Dany, they are all reaching towards her and she is running her fingers along theirs. The slaves around Marian have thrust their hands into the air to call her apparent new title. Turning her torso, she sees Missandei and calls out, "What are they calling me?"

Missandei listens for a second before blushing. After a few seconds she calls out, "They have named you Thunderbride!"

"Why are you blushing!?" Marian calls back

"I am making the title nice!" She calls to her

"Oh! What is it really!?"

"Louder as thunder Master's bed slave!"

"Why doesn't it sound that long when they shout it!?"

"Loud as Thunder and Master's Bed Slave are both a single word"

"Oh!" Marian smiles and splays her arms, lighting cackling in both fists, "That's right mother fuckers! Look out for Thunderbride!"

The slaves roar in approval at seeing the same magic that ended the wise masters playing in the hands of the Magical woman who belongs to the queen. They continued to shout in support of Dany's consort as Dany herself was being carried through the crowd so that everyone may at least stroke her hand.

It took hours before the pair of them were let down, and hours more before they moved into the city and took up residence in a mansion that Marian had already happily looted. It was dark as Dany, Marian, and Missandei all moved into Dany's chambers to relax.

"It appears that the people believe that you two are lovers," Missandei tells Dany now that they are alone without prying eyes and ears.

Dany and Marian's eyes both widen and they demand as one, "What?"

"They saw the liberties that she has within your ranks, and now they believe that she is your consort to have deserved those liberties."

"Oh," Dany frowns, "How do we dissuade them of this belief?"

"Yeah! Much as I love Dany, if I ever try and date anyone and they think she's an ex, they'd just be loathing it!"

"I would suggest you both take independent consorts," Missandei shrugs

"What, like a fuck buddy?" Marian frowns, "I don't like things casual, Isabella was everything I needed to ever learn when it came to just sex, and I did not like that one bit."

Missandei shrugs, "Taking others into separate beds will deal with the rumors the quickest.

"Well I do not plan on entering any form of relationship for a very long time," Dany, too, frowns, "I will not become second to any other again."

Marian and Dany look at each other awkwardly, then Marian shrugs, "Ah well, so I'm your consort! Could be worse."

"How?" Dany asks

"Barristan could be your consort!"

That got all three laughing.


	11. Burial Mounds

**The Dragon and the Hawke 11**

Dragons were an unruly lot. If born in good health, they never truly stop growing until the day they die, and this can lead to a very interesting state of mind. For Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal, being bigger than any other creature meant that they were more powerful than any other creature, and that they did not have to answer to any other creature.

This included their Mother and the human dragon Marian. Both were powerful in their own right, but there was no way that they could be as powerful as a dragon. The trio of fire breathers were by the size of small houses by the time their Mother began her march on Meereen. This in turn led to some differentiating opinions about the state of their diet.

The dragons liked big animals; horses, cows, humans, etc; but their mother had to limit them in what they could eat. Eventually, they could take no more, and so one night they flew far from the war party in search of new meat to feast on. What they managed to find, was a fat cow.

The trio gorged themselves on the cooked beef and delicious entrails of the cow, ignoring the cowering farmer for the time being as they took all that they could. Eventually, they were full, and they returned to camp. They were careful to remain silent as they glided into camp, for though they felt they were more powerful than the human dragon and their Mother, they did not want to upset either.

They were unfortunate in that they had not left as quietly as they had returned, and so both Mother and Marian were waiting for them in their nest. Both human women did not look happy, though Mother looked unsure as to how to deal with their willful disobedience. Thus she left punishing them to Marian, and looked sad to have to do it.

What lessons Marian decided the dragons needed to learn were only talked about in hushed whispers after that night. The dragons, though, were far more demure and calm than they had been before. The former slaves of Yunkai thought the Queen's Consort mage had lain with the dragons to stave off their rage, and as this rumor spread to the mage's ears there were several hours of uncontrollable laughter.

Finally, Marian admitted to pelting the dragons with snowballs for twelve hours while telling them how disappointed she was in them. When Dany had looked at her like she was insane, Marian also told her that there was some mind magic involved, but that she shouldn't worry about it.

With the problems that came with unruly dragons swiftly nipped in the bud by a mad woman, the march was started again in earnest. Before the departure, Marian was careful to threaten swift and terrible death to each and every former slave master of Yunkai before they set out, so that they could leave with clear conscience and knowledge that they were secure on their rearguard.

A week of marching in, and a new day dawned like any other, only without Daario Naharis or Grey Worm. Dany, as she stands at the head of the army, turns to Ser Barristan and asks, "Where is Daario Naharis? And Grey Worm?"

"Gambling, your grace," Barristan tells her with amusement

"Gambling?" She blinks

He, Jorah, and Missandei nod at her, and she sets her jaw. With a huff, she sets off towards the back of her army. She passes her Unsullied, and smiles politely at all of the camp followers who had chosen to leave Yunkai and follow her. Then she came upon the pair.

Grey Worm and Daario Naharis are sitting facing each other with their hands extended. Laying on their palms are their swords, and Marian is sitting between and behind them, staring at the display. Dany slowly blinks, dissipating some of her anger, and asks, "How long have they been at it?"

"Since midnight, your grace," Missandei tells her

Marian, looking up, blinks, "Really? Wow, I just got here like five minutes ago and I'm feeling tired just looking at them!"

Daario snorts in amusement and notes, "Ser Worm is stronger than he looks, but I can begin to see his arms beginning to shake."

Marian furrows her brow and leans down, not able to see the same shake that Daario is she looks at him with a frown before looking back at Grey Worm. Dany, meanwhile, sighs and asks, "What's the prize then, for winning this stupid contest?"

"The honor of riding by your side on the way to Meereen," Daario tells her with a charming smile.

Dany is not charmed, though, and grinds out, "That honor, belongs to Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan, as neither of them kept me waiting this morning."

She flashes a smile at Daario's crestfallen face, then looks at their blades and tells them, "You both will ride in the back, to protect the livestock."

She turns to leave, but notices that there is no sign of them dropping their swords and turns back, "The last man holding his sword will have to find himself a new queen."

In an instant, both swords are dropped, and Marian snorts in amusement before jumping up and skipping after Dany and Missandei. The advisor is the one to ask her, "Where were you this morning?"

"Ah, just making sure the boys were actually listening to me," Marian tells her, a rueful smile on her face, "They have to be the most unruly kids I have ever had to deal with!"

"You've dealt with children often?" Missandei asks

"Not really," Marian shakes her head, then her smile warps into a more nostalgic one, "Unless you count Merrill, she was innocent enough to be ten kids all on her own."

"Another friend from your days as Champion?" Missandei asks

Marian nods, "Elf girl, loved wandering the city, got lost all the time. I miss her like a little sister."

Then Marian's eyes mist over, and her smile fades into a frown. Sensing the change in emotion, Dany turns back to look at her friend while Missandei gently gives her a hug. Marian shakes her head, "Sorry, bad memories."

Dany gives her friend a pat on her free side as they walk through the army. After a minute, Missandei and Marian split and all three start to talk about lighter subjects. As they mount their horses, the subject turns to each girls' love life.

"I'm telling you, he's got total I wanna bone you vibes!" Marian tells Missandei

"Who?" She asks

"Grey Worm!" Marian tells her

"I thought you wanted to, as you put it, 'Bone her,'" Dany asks

"Oh, I'd do it in a heartbeat," Marian waves her hand, "But I've accepted that it ain't gonna happen, so I'm gonna try and help my friend get laid."

"He is Unsullied," Missandei points out with a sigh.

"So?"

"It means he is a eunuch," Ser Jorah pipes up, a few yards back, and looking decidedly uncomfortable

"Oh… what's that mean?"

"He's had his balls removed," He tells her

Marian blinks, then asks, "Did they take the dick?"

"I don't know," Jorah begins to ride slower, so as to not get caught up in any more of Marian's strange conversation topics.

Turning back to Missandei, Marian shrugs, "Well, if he's out, I'm still available."

Missandei rolls her eyes and the subject dies.

Later in the day, the girls have descended from their horses so that they may rest and feed. Looking out over the bay, Dany asks Missandei, "Have you ever been to Meereen?"

"Several times, your grace, with Master Kraznys," Missandei tells her

"And?"

"They say a thousand slaves died hauling the great pyramid together."

"And now an army of former slaves marches to tear it down."

"Yeah!" Marian says happily, "Go team!"

Both of the other women turn to look at her, and she raises her hands, "Got it, inappropriate, sorry."

Dany shakes her head and turns back to Missandei, "Do you think the Great Masters will run?"

"If they're smart, your grace," Missandei tells her, which prompts Marian to snort at the idea of a slaver acting smart while under threat.

Her friends again give her a pair of looks, but the arrival of Daario preempts anything they have to say. Dany closes her eyes in frustration and tells him, "You were supposed to ride at the back of the train."

"Yes, my queen, I need to speak to you about something important," Daario tells her, then looks to Missandei and Marian, both of whom are looking at him curiously, "A matter of strategy."

Dany raises an eyebrow, and without having to say anything, her friends get the message. Marian hops to her feet and starts walking back to her horse, Missandei right behind her. Both mount up, and start making their way back to the head of the line.

"So, have you given me any more thought?" Marian asks after a few seconds of silence

"What do you mean?" Missandei asks carefully

"Well, have you give the chance of me and you, you know, romanticly, a thought?"

"Many times," Missandei tells her

"Really!?" Marian squeeks

"Indeed," Missandei nods, "And As with every time I think on the subject, I am unsure how to proceed."

"Do you want to give it a try?"

"Perhaps, should the queen not object."

"I don't see why she would?"

"One never knows."

"Okay, true enough." 

They lapse into silence after that. Marian, for her part, is ecstatic at the little amount of progress she has made towards getting together with the beauty that is Missandei. The girl in question, smiles indulgently at the clear excitement on the mage's face.

The terrible truth is that both were happy, and then the army stopped its march. Looking at the lines of Unsullied, both girls frowned to each other, then rode more swiftly to the front. There they were met with a terrible sight.

A little girl had been strung up on a cross. Who knew how long she'd been up there, and the only thing that was clear was that it was meant as a message. Marian, for her part, slides off her horse and slowly walks up to the girl.

Dany and Daario find them like this, with her advisors staring at the dead girl while Marian silently sobbed as she worked to pull her down. Jorah swallows some bile and then tells the queen, "There's one at every mile marker from here to Meereen."

"How far are we to Meereen?" Dany asks as she watches Marian finish pulling the girl down.

"One Hundred and Sixty Three, your grace" Jorah tells her, shuddering

"I'll tell our men to ride ahead and bury them," Barristan tells her, a resigned horror making his usually smooth voice tremble, "You don't need to see this."

"You will do no such thing," Dany tells him, gulping back the tears that wish to fall as Marian uses her magic to create a hole in the mountain.

They all watch as Marian sets the girl in the hole. Before leaning back, the mage tears the collar from the girl's throat. Taking two steps back, she then swipes her hand to the side and the earth fills in the hole.

"I will see each and every one of their faces," Dany tells him.

"Dany," Marian speak up

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna be doing a lot of killing when we get to Meereen," The mage tells her

"I know," Dany nods, "I will be doing the same."


	12. Rolling Thunder

**The Dragon and the Hawke 12**

They decided to walk to Meereen. It made their journey last far longer than it would have otherwise, but Marian was intent on burying each of the dead children herself, and Dany would not let her friend walk alone.

It was disturbing for the queen's advisors to watch the mage act with such seriousness, and such silence. Since telling Dany that she would be killing most of Meereen, she had not said another word. All she had done was start walking.

There had been no waiting for the rest of the army, or even her closer friends. There was an intentness to her stride, and a tremble in the ground with each step. In this land without magic, it was as though a dormant god had awoken and its anger was moving slowly and inevitably towards Meereen.

The former slaves of Yunkai were the most interested to see what would happen when the mage warrior of the queen reached its gates. Many had seen and told the destruction and death that she had wrought against the slave masters in their former city, and it had been said that she was a storm on the earth, a walking echo of thunder, and that only the dragon could calm her.

But even the dragons were wary of her now. The Yunkish, the Unsullied, Dany, and her advisors all saw that Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion were far more cautious around the mage than they had ever been. To see monsters larger than houses act like scared children around an enraged adult told many just how dangerous Marian Hawke would be.

It also told them how fucked Meereen really was.

When they reached the city, Marian didn't wait, she glared up at the assembled slave masters who looked down at her as the Unsullied army poured out around her and she raised a hand. Dany had just about reached her when Marian lowered it in a swift swipe.

There was a rumbling, and the sky darkened. Looking up, slave and slave master alike could see the sky fill with clouds that had not existed before. The sky roiled and boiled in anger, until, finally, a massive spike of lightning arched down from the sky and struck the city gates.

There was a cry of terror from somewhere in the city as the gates exploded into showers of splinters and stone. There was a terrible and utter silence as the slave masters stared at the woman who had broken their city with a wave of her hand, and then, with a harsh bellow, she cries out, "Surrender now! And I will make it quick!"

The slave masters stare between each other in incomprehension, and then with some dawning horror as they realize that her intention was to see them all dead. Most could not comprehend why, but the more civil minded amongst them realized almost immediately what would have set off a woman who rode with the breaker of chains.

After a minute, there is a shout from the city, "If we give you those who put up the children, will you let us live!?"

Marian, for all her anger, and discounting what most people thought about her, was not a psychotic murderer, and so looked to Dany for confirmation. The Mother of Dragons for her own part had to think on whether or not she needed to keep the masters alive or if she could just kill the lot and be done with it. But she did not want to be known for slaughtering a population, so she shook her head.

Marian took a deep, calming breath, releasing as much of the anger that she had held onto for six sleepless nights, and calls back, "They will be here at dawn! If there are any missing, you will all die as they do!"

With that, she turns and marches away from the city, and through the parting crowd of Unsullied. Dany was quick to follow her, as was Missandei; they watched as their friend strode with sure step until she found a cave in the canyon that led to the city, and walked into it.

After checking to make sure that no one was around but Dany and Missandei, Marian collapsed to her knees and started breathing heavily. Dany and Missandei rush to her side and hold her around the shoulders as the woman sucks in air as fast as she can, eyes screwed shut.

Missandei takes her face in her hands and turns Marian towards her, "What is wrong?"

"I want to kill them," Marian mumbles, eyes still closed, "Want to so bad, and I can feel that rage just creeping around inside of me, but I know that I can't let it out, I can't let it go out of control."

"Why? You must release this feeling," Missandei tells her, stroking her cheek where a tear falls

"If I do, something could happen that I never want to happen," Marian tells her, thinking of the demons and abominations that were so prevalent in Thedas, and how sure she was that she didn't want that evil to become a part of Essos as well. Shaking her head as it lies in Missandei's hands she tells her, "I need to let go, but if I do it the way I want to, then it'll be bad!"

"Then do it the way I want to," Marian opens her eyes, confused, and sees a face lowering towards her and then a split second later there are a pair of lips on hers.

Dany, having seen the way the wind was blowing, exited the cave and moved back towards the head of her army. Five minutes after her departure, she was back at it's head and staring at the terrified faces of thousands of slaves who had come to the wall to see who had broken the gates of their master's city.

Seeing them, Dany turned to Jorah and tells him, "Have the catapults filled with the broken chains."

Jorah nods and goes to have her commands carried out as she turns back to the city. She tries to think of how best to articulate what she wanted to tell them, and thinks on what the slave masters might have said about her.

Eventually, after her army had filled out and made formation, and the catapults had been loaded, she began speaking. She told the slaves where she came from, of her time as a Khaleesi, as her time as a slave. She then told them her mission, her new purpose in life, and her dedication to seeing it through.

She told them about how their masters had lined the road to their city with the dead children of slaves, and how she intended to answer them back in kind for their sins. She told the slaves of the Rolling Thunder of Marian Hawke, a near god on earth, who had joined her through a dream made from magic, and had elected to follow her on her quest to free Slaver's Bay.

She told them that she was not here to rule them, and that after freeing them, would put forth a new ruling government, that would act fairly, and evenly for all of its people while she would take her own home back from those who stole it from her, just as their freedom had been stolen. But she would only leave them if they wanted her gone.

She told them how she had freed Astapor, and the former slaves had joined her of their own free will. To this the Unsullied banged the butts of their spears against the earth in one unified bash. Then she told how she had freed Yunkai, and how the former slaves of that city had joined her as well, and a great call of Mhysa was shouted from the Yunkish. She told them that she would free them as well, and accept them if they wished to join her with no expectations.

She did not want slaves, she told them with an impassioned plea, calling forth the catapults, but people who would free themselves from the horror that their lives had become.

And with that, she called for the catapults to release, and the city was assaulted with dozens of shattering wooden boxes that released thousands of broken collars and chains. The slaves of Meereen gather around the broken chains, and look upon them with equal measures wonder and caution.

Life had never been easy for the slaves of Meereen, but they hoped for the day that could come, such as this day, and they would be free. They only had to put their trust in the Mother of Dragons and the Thunder Goddess.


	13. Tit for Tat

**The Dragon and the Hawke 13**

Marian had slept for most of two days before she felt like herself again, and by that time, Dany had claimed Meereen. When the mage woke, after having cried herself into a fitful slumber in Missandei's arms, the former slave was teaching Grey Worm to speak in the common tongue.

She listened quietly as Grey Worm haltingly said, "My… name… is… Grey… Worm… I… come… from… the… summer… eels."

"Isles," Missandei corrects him, and the sound of her voice brings a smile to Marian's face.

She watches them as they continue their lesson, a silent observer on something that could have been if she had not arrived. She could see a reluctant attraction from Grey Worm towards Missandei, though not from the woman to him. The mage could tell that this was probably her fault, as if she had not been around to liberalize everyone's thoughts on sexual partners, almost everyone would probably have gone for members of the opposite sex.

The mage blinked a slow blink, and suddenly, Dany was in the room, standing over her. She blinked a few more times and her friend came better into focus and a large smile spread across her face, "You're awake!"

"Yeah," Marian nods, grunting and looking up, "How long was I out?"

"Two days," Dany tells her

"Wow, really?"

"Yes," She nods, "You were awake for six, so it makes some sense that you would need to regain your strength after that display of power on the city gates."

"Yeah, probably used a bit too much juice," Marian nods, sitting up. Blinking again, and rubbing her eyes to get rid of the last of the sleep she slides her legs off of her bed mat. Looking up at Dany she asks, "So what did I miss?"

"We took the city," Dany tells her, "Your display of power and a few well chosen words from me solidified their surrender before your time limit was up."

"Oh," Marian smiles, then raises her hand, "High five."

"Dany smirks, and slaps her friend's hand.

"So what about the masters that had the kids strung up?" Marian asks, climbing to her feet, "They dead yet?"

"No, I was saving them for you," Dany tells her.

Marian smiles, "That was nice of you! How many are their?"

"Almost as many as there were children."

"Wow, really?"

"Yes, we were given the masters who came up with it, and every master that donated a child."

"So how many do we have?"

"One hundred and fifty two masters."

"Huh, I was expecting, like, twenty."

"As was I."

"On the bright side, that means that they were probably being honest and I don't have to kill a couple thousand people to prove a point."

"Yes," Dany deadpans, "Lucky us."

Marian gives a quick hug to Missandei, and the three exit the tent, "Anything else I happen while I was asleep?"

"You received a new title," Missandei tells her

"Oh? What is it?"

"The Rolling Thunder," Missandei tells her

"How'd that one come about?"

"I believe that one was my fault," Dany tells her, "I spoke of how you're powers were like that of a god and you chose to follow me at some point during a speech to the slaves of Meereen. Along with that, I compared you to a rolling thunderstorm."

"Now there are rumors that you are the storm god that blessed the queen at her birth," Missandei tells her.

"People think I'm a god?" Marian looks at her two friends with some concern, and sees that they are struggling to fight off smiles, "You planned that, didn't you?"

"You must admit, when looking at our relationship from an outsider's perspective, it does seem odd," Dany tells her, "And I told the entirety of our known relationship to the slaves, and when taken as the full breadth of it, without the context that you provide in your own story, then you indeed seem like a goddess that has come to help me free the slaves."

Marian furrows her brows, and shakes her head, "I don't like it. I've met actual gods. I've actually killed one once! I do not like the idea that people could start seeing me like Corypheus."

"Who?" Missandei asks, having been absent for the telling of Marian's full story so many months ago, and who also was questioning to herself if someone who claims to have actually killed a god shouldn't be given the title just by default or something.

"Oh, right, you weren't there for me full backstory," Marian remembers, having forgotten that Missandei hadn't been with them all that long. The woman had become such an integral part of the inner circle, and such an important person to Marian herself, that she forgot that the girl hadn't been a part of her life for all that long on the grand scheme of things.

After a minute in which Marian does not in fact disclose her full backstory to Missandei, the woman turns to her and slowly blinks. Marian looks at her on the side and starts, "Oh! You wanted me to tell you now! Well alright!..."

Marian proceeds to wow Missandei with her adventures as Champion of Kirkwall, before she was just the Mad Mage, or the Thunderbride, or the Rolling Thunder. The Summer Islander's eyes widened, narrowed, furrowed, and brightened at all the right parts as the mage told her story and at the end of it, they had reached their destination.

Lined up, chained to the ground, were one hundred and fifty two slave masters. Their robes were filthy, they looked tired, and there was a stench of dried piss and shit hanging around them. Marian got a whiff and turned to Dany with eyes raised as she waved her hand in front of her face.

"Yes, they have been chained here since they were surrendered to me by the city," Dany nods to her.

Marian nods and creates a ball of fire in her hands, she waves it around, trying to burn the stench away from herself. To the crowd around them, it looks like the thunder god they had come to worship was doing some kind of strange dance to ward something off. Marian, being completely unaware of the religion she was birthing with every action she took, finished cleaning it the air around her and took a cautionary sniff.

When the air past her inspection, she turned her attention more fully to the chained masters. All of them had their eyes glued on her in terror as she snuffed out the flame in her hand. She smiles at them toothily, and turns to Missandei, "Can you translate for me?"

When Missandei nods, she turns back to the slave masters and starts to speak, "I don't know which of you speaks common, and which of you don't, and frankly I don't care to say what I have to say more than once."

She steps forward and starts to stride along the line of slave masters. She stops after she makes it ten feet, realizing that she has exited her clear air area, but then she turns her stop into a turn and glare so that the masters don't get that being generally disgusted with them as people, she isn't also disgusted by their soiled clothes.

"I told you when I tore down your gates that i would mete out justice to you for what you have done! And if you are wondering what it is you've done!? You have offended me!" Marian turns and gazes along the line of masters as they all look at her. Some cower, some gaze in blank acceptance, and then there are the rare few that glare defiantly at her.

She picks her target amongst those men, and strides up to a particularly big man and calls to all of them, "I am going to make examples of you, all of you. You strung up one hundred and sixty three children for the singular purpose of taunting Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

She smiles at the man in front of her, who glares daggers at her, "What you probably do not know, is that I personally buried all of them. And so I have thought hard about what form of punishment should be delivered on to you!"

"I could burn you," She says, and Drogon roars in excitement from his place a few hundred yards in the air.

"I could electrocute you as I did the Wise Masters of Yunkai," She muses, raising her right hand and lightning dances along her fingers. One of the masters lets out a sob of terror and she smiles, lowering her hand.

"But no! I am going to deliver unto you a punishment that is wholly and terrifyingly unique!" Marian laughs, and she hoists the defiant master that she stands before up by his neck. Her strength amplified by telekinesis, she lifts him off his feet.

The man lets out a choked scream as his hands are skinned as they are dragged through their shackles and then his scream turns into a yelp as he is flipped over Marian's head. He flies in an arch, until Marian plants him in the dirt.

He looks up in confusion when he realizes that she is not holding him any more, and sees her, ten feet up, at the edge of a hole he has been thrown into. He gives a terrified and angry roar as the earth seals closed above him, leaving him trapped and alone in the dark.

Marian turns with a manic grin to the rest of the Masters, "I have decided that I will treat you as I treated those children. I will bury you, so that you may rest in peace while the last moments of your lives are spent dying horribly."

There are cheers from the crowd of slaves, and sobs from the masters, and behind her, Daenerys Targaryen nods with satisfaction.


	14. Getting Lost

**The Dragon and the Hawke 14**

Barristan Selmy wasn't happy when he learnt what Marian did to the Great Masters of Meereen in retaliation for what they did to the slave children on the road. For almost the entire time she had been unconscious, he had been trying to council Dany on the benefits of mercy.

Obviously, when Marian had buried the Masters, she hadn't known of his position, but she did very soon after. It was a few hours after, when she was enjoying lunch, that the old Knight came to her, "you should know, I've been trying to get Dany to spare the masters for two days."

"Why would you do that!?" Marian's question is asked with a mixture of incredulity and horror.

"Sometimes it is best to respond to injustice, with mercy," he tells her, causing her to frown and furrow her eyes at him. While she looks him up and down he remains silent, until the silence stretches to more than a minute. Finally he asks, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm just trying to understand what kinda fucked up place you come from that stringing up more than a hundred fifty kids in a row to prove a point doesn't merit some kind of response!" Marian tells him, waving her hands emphatically to emphasize her incredulity.

"I am from Westeros," Barristan tells her

"And do fucked up things like child murder get thrown under the rug a lot?" Marian asks in alarm

The silence and guilty look that the old Knight replies with tells Marian all that she needs to know, and she stands and claps him on the arm, "yeah, see, where I'm from, stuff like that gets a response. A pretty big one, too."

"Even if it is the nobility that has done the act?" Barristan counter asks, fed up with Marian's superior attitude

"Hell yeah!" Marian nods, "as smug as those rich ass hats think they are, a lynch mob clears them of those notions real quick!"

"You can't be serious," Barristan shakes his head, not being able to conceive of a land where the people stood up against the nobility.

Marian smirks and pats his shoulder, telling him, "one day, I'll tell you about the Denerim Alienage, and how a hero was born there and stood up to a bunch of rich pricks."

Barristan watches as she walks away after that. As she turns a corner and disappears from sight, he thinks on what she has said. Years of following mad or bad kings and watching as they did nothing may have changed his perspective, he began to realfall

He remembered watching as the royal children were brought before Robert Baratheon, and the terrible smile of satisfaction on his face. Thinking on it, and on so many instances like it that he had lost count of under the Mad King, he could almost track the failing nature of his conscience. Just thinking about all of the actions that he had been witness to and said nothing against, to him the horrors that men perpetrated on each other made more sense than letting Marian enact her revenge.

And he could see that this wasn't right, and it certainly wasn't what the queen would want.

While Barristan was doing his best to change the way he saw the world, Marian was looking for Dany and Missandei. They had separated when Marian finally felt the lack of food from her two days asleep, and the other two had gone to Dany's new pyramid while Marian went to grab a bite from the camp outside the city.

They had offered to get her something to eat in the pyramid, but the last of Marian's personal rations were in the camp, and she wanted to finish them before they went bad. Now she was walking through the city towards the massive pyramid in its center.

As she walked, she noticed a lot of different types of looks she was receiving from the people of the city as she walked through it. There were fleeting glances of awe, sidelong glares, straight on angry stares, and there were also the occasional once overs out of lust, sizing her up like an opponent to be faced. In summation, a lot of people looked at her in a lot of different ways on her way to the pyramid.

As she passed through the market district, she took the time to buy an apple. She did not expect it to turn into a massive event, but apparently, a woman with magic buying an apple has to cause drama. When she went to pay the vendor with one of the shiny copper coins she had collected from the coffers for just such an occasion, the man shook his head and waved his hand. Thinking she wasn't paying enough, she raised a hand in apology and added a second coin. When he again refused, she added a third, followed by a fourth, then a fifth.

Eventually she was holding a silver coin and sixteen copper ones in one fist, nearly forcing the man to take the money before one of the Unsullied came up to her to see what was going on. The vendor turned to the soldier and spoke to him in Valyrian, the unsullied nods and turns to Marian, "He.. will… not… take… money."

"What?" Marian jerks her head back in shock, "Why not?"

The Unsullied translates her question and the man tells him, "He… does… not… want… to… charge… a… god."

"Oh!" Marian nods in understanding, then smiles at the man, and hands the Unsullied the silver coin in her hand after returning the coppers to her money pouch, "Pay him for my apple. Then tell him that everyone should pay for goods, and that nobody is above that, not even me."

The Unsullied nods, and holds out the coin to the vendor, telling the man what Marian told him. The vendor takes the coin, eyes widening with awe, and he drops into a bow to Marian. The mage flicks her eyes from side to side awkwardly, and with her left hand waves for the guy to stand. When he does, she turns to the Unsullied and tells him, "Tell him that he never has to bow to me… and that he should spread the word that nobody should."

The unsullied does so, and she smiles at him and holds up a hand, "High five!"

She laughs in joy as the soldier smacks her hand, and through his eye holes she can see that he is also smiling. She waves goodbye to the vendor, takes a bite of her apple, and waves for the Unsullied to follow her, "So, what's your name?"

"Trod Underfoot," The Unsullied replies

"Mm, your in Grey Worm's camp right? The unsullied names are lucky cause they're the ones you had when Dany picked you up?"

"Yes," Trod nods

"I'm probably getting in the way of you doing your job right now, aren't I," Marian asks as she realizes that the Unsullied had been guarding something

"It… is… no… trouble," he replies

"Really?"

Trod nods, and Marian smiles, "Great! What were you guarding, anyway?"

He tells her, but when he realizes he had said what he was supposed to say in Valyrian, he repeats himself in common, "The graves."

"Graves?" Marian asks, then looks around, and realizes that the reason she seems to know where she is going, is because she is in the same place she buried all of those slave masters, "Oh! Hey! It's this place!"

"Yes," Trod nods

"You're the poor bastard who had to listen to them scream under there?" Marian asks, as the muffled sounds from the graves starts to hit her ears now that she is listening for them.

He nods, but tells her, "I… like… to listen."

"Good for you," Marian nods, giving him a thumbs up as she takes another bite of her apple, "Always good to like what you do."

Trod nods as they reach the end of the courtyard. Marian stops at the exit and smiles at him, "I'll let you get back to doing your job, I gotta go see if Da- uh, the queen needs anything…"

Trod Underfoot nods, and marches off as Marian starts to ascend the hill to the entrance to the Pyramid. The trek up takes longer than the mage expects, and by the time she is at the entrance, a light sheen of sweat covers her face and soaks her underclothes.

She wipes her face and enters the Pyramid, and fails to ask anyone for directions. The result is that a half an hour later she is on the outside of the pyramid again. Only this time, she is on a balcony staring out at the city in wonder.

Not twenty feet above her, Dany is having a council meeting. Looking around the room, she asks, "Where is Marian?"

Grey Worm tells her that she had entered the pyramid half an hour previous, but that nobody had managed to catch sight of her in the last five minutes to tell her where to go. Missandei snorts in amusement as she realizes what must have happened, and explains to the others when they look at her for context, "She must have gotten lost."

Dany chuckles herself, and Barristan and Jorah smile while Daario rolls his eyes in amusement. Turning back to the balcony, Dany looks out on the city scape and asks, "So, what news is there?"

"King Joffrey Baratheon is dead," Jorah tells her, eliciting a few shocked looks, and Dany turns around to look at him, silently asking for more details, "Murdered at his own wedding."

"And we've taken the Meerees navy, your grace," Barristan adds, though Daario is quick to jump in.

"The Second Sons took the navy," He says as he sits down.

Dany, again not terribly impressed with Daario's activities, asks, "Who told you to take the navy?"

"No one." He says as he grabs a grape from the platter in the center of the war table

"So why did you do it?"

"I heard you like ships," Daario shrugs as he plops the grape into his mouth

Dany turns, thinking on his words, but before she can ask how many ships, there is a call from below in a very recognizable voice, "Hey! Dany! Are you up there!?"

"Marian?" Dany strides onto the balcony and looks down, and sees her friend on the floor below. When the mage spots her, she smiles and waves in excitement. Dany rolls her eyes and asks, "Where have you been? Grey Worm said you entered the palace half an hour ago!"

"I got lost!" Marian tells her, then splays her hands and exclaims, "This place is big!"

"Can you get up here?"

"Yeah! Gimme a second!" Marian takes a few steps back, vanishing from sight, and the next Dany sees of her, she is jumping off of the balcony.

Dany gives a startled yell, and the rest of her council jump up to see what it is that Marian has done now. Luckily, they needn't have bothered, as there is a streak of blue and a flush of cold air, and Marian is standing on the balcony, full and whole and not hanging in mid air. The queen turns to look at her, and before anything else can be said, smacks her in the unarmored shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You jumped off a balcony!"

"Yeah, I needed space!"

"So you jumped off a balcony!?"

"Okay, sorry! Won't happen again!" Marian raises her hands in surrender, then turns to smile at Missandei, who had stepped up to them. She is about to extend a greeting, when she is once more slapped in her unarmored shoulder, "Ow!"

"You jumped off a balcony!?" Missandei asks, sounding more worried and emotional than any in the room had heard her before

"I'm sorry, alright!" Marian grabs her in a hug and holds her, "I promise I won't do it again!"

"You better not," Daario laughs, slipping back into his seat, "Never worry a love, Lady Hawke, that way lies destruction."

Marian rolls her eyes and leads Missandei back into her seat, sitting down and laying the summer islander over her lap. Jorah and Barristan look slightly uncomfortable at the visible sign of affection between two women, but as Dany had already given the match an okay, and they had grown accustomed to Marian as a whole, neither said anything.

"So," Marian looks to Dany, "What's this about ships?"

"My Second Sons claimed the navy," Daario tells her

"Oh, how many ships did Meereen have?" Marian asks

"ninety three," Barristan tells her

"How many men can they carry?" Dany asks

"Ninety three hundred, not counting sailors," He tells her

"Would that be enough to take King's Landing?" The queen asks

"Aren't we planning on taking a continent?" Marian asks

Dany raises an eyebrow at her

"Well I get the feeling that you need more than ten thousand men to take and hold a country, much less a continent," Marian notes, then cites an example, "When the Orlesians conquered Ferelden, they had a force of a hundred thousand that had to stay in the country to keep control. And Fereldan is a lot smaller than Westeros."

Dany, Jorah, and Barristan, familliar with Marian's history from the long story sessions before they had bought the unsullied, understood the reference, but Daario raises an eyebrow, "What are Fereldan and Orlesians?"

"Orlais and Fereldan are two contries where I'm from," Marian tells him, "A few decades before I was born, the Orlesian empire conquered Fereldan and managed to hold it for a few years more before they were kicked out."

"So, you're saying we don't have the manpower to succeed?" He clarifies

"Yeah," She nods, "Even with me and the dragons, the shit could hit the fan at any time."

Dany frowns as she sees half formed visions of taking the seat of her family's power burn in her mind as quickly as they had risen, and says, "Leave me, I wish to be alone."

Everyone nods, but then Dany calls, "Marian, Jorah, could you stay?"

The two exchange looks and stop while everyone else files out. Marian tells Missandei that she will meet her later before the woman exits the room, and then the three of them are all that are left. Dany turns to look out to the city and asks, "What do you think I should do?"

Jorah and Marian step up to either side of her and Jorah notes, "You could sail for Westeros, take King's Landing, perhaps call upon the Dornish for aid. They hate the Lannisters, and would no doubt be willing to help."

"Or you could stay here," Marian counter offers when Jorah nods at her, "And rule a people that love you, and change Slaver's Bay into the new seat of a Targaryen Empire, one that started for better reasons than your ancestor."

Dany stepped forward, deep in thought, and looked out into the seething mass of Meereen, the third city that had fallen to her, and loved her for it. Nodding to herself she turns back to look at her two closest companions, who had not led her astray for as long as she had known them.

"I will stay, and I will rule."


	15. Proper Seating

**The Hawke and the Dragon 15**

Life outside of the great cities of Slaver's Bay had remained largely unchanged with Daenerys Targaryen's conquest. Even as Astapor, and Yunkai, then finally Meereen fell, life ultimately did not change. Slaves were freed to conform to the new overlord's person tastes, and the newly freed slaves began to work for gold or move towards the cities, but all in all, life was lived as though nothing had changed.

One such instance of this was the case of a random goat herder and his son who lived about fifty miles outside of Meereen. They had tended their flock for years, and had watched at the Dragon Queen marched past them without a word. The goat herd never caused trouble, never tried to raise a fuss, and he had a simple enough life that he couldn't actually afford a slave, so he never caught the army's attention even for that.

To be frank, the Goat herd and his son had no reason to suspect that they had attracted the attention of something more powerful than they. Unfortunately, Drogon was hungry, and wasn't in the mood for more fish. No, what the dragon wanted was goats, and so he got himself some goats.

There was a terrible roar and suddenly he was there, claws clamped around one of the herd's goats, and staring at the goat herd. The dragon, at this point about the size he would stay for at least a few years, was the size of a large cottage, and his head was the size of the goatherd's son.

Both humans dared not blink as the massive fire beast looked them both over with a sort of keen, hungry interest. His head slithered from side to side as he took them in with first one eye, and then the other. The son managed not to piss himself at the sight, but the father was not so lucky, and Drogon snorted to himself before roasting the braying goat in his claws and digging in.

The dragon and the two humans stay where they are for more than half an hour as the goat is slowly torn to pieces and devoured. The humans, by the fifteenth minute, had lost most of their fear at the possibility of being eaten, and the son had chalked up his courage to step over to Drogon and pet the dragon.

Drogon, for his part, let the small human indulge his curiosity. After all, being with the presence of a dragon was payment enough for a goat, so touching him should be a more than ample tip.

Soon enough though, the goat was gone, and Drogon gave a satisfied belch. The gout of flame that escaped him with his burp manages to catch a patch of grass on fire and the goatherd and his son quickly retreat. With the small human out of the way, Drogon roars and takes off into the air, off back towards Meereen.

In the city itself, Dany was sitting in her new throne, gazing impassively down at Missandei as she listed the various issues that her new empire was facing. A week into ruling Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor she was still grasping at straws on learning how to rule. In one afternoon alone, there had been three murders, one riot, and a minor plague that she had needed to figure out how to deal with.

Jorah and Barristan had turned out to not be all that helpful in dealing with matters of state, unfortunately. Her oldest advisor had been a knight before he had become her advisor, and so most of his advice was dealt in absolutes. He was a good soldier and a good man, but he was not one that was built for helping run an empire. Barristan was much the same, having spent most of his adult life acting as a voiceless body guard to kings, he had learnt a few tricks that could help with ruling, but unfortunately those tricks didn't really work for Meereen and the rest of Slaver's Bay.

It was here that Dany was glad that she had Marian, Missandei, and even Daario on her council of advisors. Marian had never been one for governance, but she was the Lady Hawke of House Amell in Kirkwall for seven years, and in all of that time her house had risen to be one of the richest and most influential in town; hence why she never got picked up by Templars, even when she did magic in the open. Missandei, for her part, had been born for politics, and breathing the political atmosphere of Slaver's Bay for most of her life; as a result, she knew how to play the game better than anyone once she was coaxed out of her shell of politeness. Daario was Daario, and he knew how to be Daario.

On the subject of Daario, he was the first order of business to be dealt with on this particular day. The commander of the Second Sons smiled as he entered the throne room and bowed low in greeting, "Your grace."

"Daario Naharis, Commander of the Second Sons," Missandei announces for the sake of formalities, then announces the reason why he is present, "Here before her grace, Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, to make good on payments for services rendered, and advance the contract between her highness and the Second Sons."

"Daario," Dany nods to him slightly, "You and your men have received their gold?"

"Yes, your grace," Daario nods, "And my men are enjoying their recent wealth as we speak. I am here to ask if you have need of the Second Sons for another year?"

"I do," Dany nods, "Would you give me your swords?"

"Our swords are yours," Daario bows low once more

"Then join me as commander of the Second Sons," Dany waves, and Daario nods as he moves up the steps to stand beside the queen's throne beside Grey Worm on her left. He notices a slight movement, and smirks at Marian's thumbs up from her place on her own chair a level down from the queen.

The mage had been surprised when she was told she got her own chair, because she had been under the assumption that everyone always stood around Dany at these formal meetings. Missandei had been quick to inform her that due to her status as a supposed goddess, if she were to be standing, it would start to tear her image apart, so it was better to sit her ass down. The lesser position to Dany indicated her support of the Queen, but the fact that she was the only other person in the room who sat down meant that she was also on equal footing in a different manner.

Moving her thoughts away from why she got to sit in a swanky chair, Marian turned her attention to the newest supplicant before the queen. The man stands nervous, and clearly terrified of being in her presence. As Missandei runs through the introductions again, Marian notices that the man seemed to be trying to gather his courage. When Missandei finished, Dany invited the man to step forward.

When he didn't, Missandei repeated her words in a local dialect rather than Valyrian. The man swallows and takes a few halting steps forward before he starts to speak. Missandei translates his words into common for Marian, and the others, who don't speak nineteen languages, "He says he is a goatherd, and that he prayed for your victory against the slave masters."

Dany furrows her brow, sure that this wasn't all that the man came to speak about, and tells Missandei, "I thank him for his prayers, and ask what he has come to me for?"

Missandei tells the goatherd as much, and the man bows low and starts to speak again. Missandei frowns, then turns to Dany and tells her, "It was your dragons, the black one came upon him, his son, and his flock this morning and ate one of his goats. He is unsure if he should even bring this to you, and asks if he is being praised or punished?"

Marian smacks her face and leans her head back in exasperation at Drogon's antics while Dany merely blinks. The queen thinks quickly and tells Missandei, "Tell him that he is blessed, and that he will be paid the goat's weight in gold for Drogon's meal. Also tell him that anything he produces with the goats of his flock will bear an inherent approval of myself, my dragons, and the Rolling Thunder."

Hearing her new title being said, Marian gives a thumbs up towards the man and smiles at him. The goatherd bows low when Missandei translates the queen's words and his thanks can be understood in any language.

Soon enough he shuffles out of the room, and the queen and her advisors are left alone with their thoughts. After a moment of silence, Marian notes, "I'm going to throw the biggest ball of ice at him…"

"You really think the old tricks will work?" Jorah asks, having seen the size of the dragons as of late, worries over the use of Marian's teaching methods

"Pffff!" Marian waves her hand, "Please! Nothing likes getting hard balls of ice thrown at them! And I happen to be really good at throwing shit."

"What I mean is, do you think that your methods of teaching will stick?" Jorah asks

"Sure! Drogon hasn't eaten anyone yet," Marian shrugs, tossing a conjured ball of air up and down in the air, "eating without paying for a meal is gonna be a new lesson."

"And will he learn it?" Dany asks

Marian gives her a thumbs up, "I'm teaching him in the same way I got taught not to set things on fire, and it worked for me!"

At this, everyone shares looks of worry. After all, they had known Marian for a while, and she liked setting things on fire almost as much as she liked shooting them with lightning.


	16. Hard Lessons

**The Dragon and the Hawke 16**

Drogon was sleeping when Marian found him. He, and his brothers, had taken to sleeping and playing in the great colosseum. After Dany had freed Meereen's slaves, one of the first things to go was the pit and arena fighting. Marian could already tell that the blood sport would probably be back on in less than a year.

After all, people needed entertainment, and for hundreds of years that entertainment had been shirtless dudes murdering each other. Even the slaves that she'd talked to on the way to the colosseum admitted to missing the entertainment.

Thinking on it, she mused as she entered the arena and conjured a ball of ice, she could probably come up with a way to make it non-lethal. It would be a fun pastime, and maybe she could get the boys into it.

On the subject of the boys, it took six ice balls to the face for Drogon to wake up. When he did, he was anger and fire and roaring. All of his bluster immediately stopped when Marian raised her right finger and shouted, "Ah!"

The Dragon quieted and whined as it ran a claw over its snout to remove the flakes of ice that had stuck to its snout, and looked at Marian with incomprehending confusion. The mage was having none of that though, and her finger descended to point at him, "You know exactly what you did!"

Drogon lowers his claws, and his eyes track over to his brothers, who had woken to watch the spectacle of him being chastised by Dragon human Marian. He tries to roar at her to go away, but all that does is get him hit in the face with another ice ball, "What have I told you about roaring? We use our inside voices when talking to each other, remember?"

It is a novel sight to see a dragon look ashamed, but Drogon managed it, and nodded his head demurely. Marian nodded decisively and asks, "it isn't right to eat things that don't belong to you, is it?"

Drogon shakes his head.

"That's right! If I hear that you've eaten anything that you don't own, or that nobody has given you, I'm gonna have to do something drastic!"

Drogon whimpered, and his brothers backed away at the threat.

"That's right! You do this one more time, and no more ice cream for a month!"

Drogon wailed into the sky at the thought of the tasty frozen deliciousness that only Marian could make properly being denied to him. Rhaegal and Viserion make similar wines, wishing that their brother would stop causing trouble for them so that the great human dragon would never make such terrible threats.

Marian looks over at the two smaller brothers and smiles at them, "Don't you two worry, I'm not mad at you!"

The two stop croaking and look between each other in joy at the threat of losing the greatest of cold things denied to them was lifted. Drogon slapped his head to the ground in defeat, conceding that the threat that Marian leveled at him was enough to make him give in to her demands.

Now, one may wonder how a frozen delectable could be so instrumental in curbing a dragon's murderous rage, and Marian was happy to say that all it had taken was one subliminal mind trick way back when they were still small enough to climb on shoulders. She had gotten them hooked on cow's milk, which basically every creature in all of existence liked to drink, so it wasn't hard to get them to like it. Then she got them to appreciate cold milk, then she continued to add ingredients and got them to love those, until finally the end result was ice cream.

The Dragons loved the stuff, and only one person in the entire world knew the recipe that they liked, and it was Marian. So, in essence, the mage had made the dragons slaves to her whim without even having to use her more magical abilities.

It was times like this, with dragons begging for ice cream, that she loved that she was from a world that was like a hundred years more advanced than this one. And she was especially happy that dwarves existed on her world, cause who else but small dudes that lived in volcanic cakes would create the coldest food ever.

Then she frowned, cause thinking of dwarves made her think of Varric, who made her think of the rest of her friends, which made her depressively nostalgic. Thinking that she wanted to get rid of the darker feelings rolling around in her brain, Marian decides to try and talk to Dany.

Sure that the trek back to the Pyramid will take as long as it took to get to the arena, Marian sets off, expecting to get back to the palace by the time the sun goes down. Unfortunately, she greatly overestimates her ability to stay out of trouble, and a shout from nearby alley attracts her attention.

Adventurer senses tingling, Marian summons her staff, which breaks six potted plants, a wall, and nearly takes off a man's head before it reaches her, and steps into the mouth of the alley. What she sees, she does not like. A woman is being crowded by two men, both in the dull brown robes of former slaves. The woman, adorned in the more ornate mistress clothes, looks to be backing away in fear.

"Ahem," Marian calls

Both former slaves turn to see her, and she smiles. They smile back and wave before turning back to the former mistress. The woman, who had also seen her, calls out, "Please, help!"

"I was planning on it," Marian tells the woman, as she steps up behind the slaves. She steps up behind the larger of the two former slaves and taps him on the shoulder with her staff. The man sags and turns, asking something in his native tongue.

Marian, who assumes that he is asking why she is stopping him, rolls her eyes and looks to the woman, "Will you please tell him that neither I nor the queen support rape."

The woman nods in fear and translates. The men laugh, then speak again. Marian looks to the woman for a translation, then raises an eyebrow at the trail of urine running down her leg. The woman gulps, then says, "They said that they do not intend to rape me, merely kill me as retaliation for wrongs done by my father."

"What did your father do?" Marian asks, sure that it was probably something terrible. Slave masters were dicks like that.

"He killed their own father, and he was one of the masters that you buried in the market," The last part was said with sufficient levels of shame that Marian could tell that it hadn't been a decision that the woman had actually agreed with.

"Well tell them that your father has already paid for his crimes against them and many others," Marian tells her, "And that taking needless vengeance isn't something that I like."

The woman translates, and the men clearly don't believe her. They shout at the woman, and one pulls a knife in anger. That was when Marian decided that the better part of valor was knocking them out, throwing them at some Unsullied, and going to sleep.

She proceeded to do all that, and ignored the woman's thanks as she stalked off.

While Marian was getting into Missandei bed, Daario was doing his best to get into Dany's. The mercenary sniffed the flowers that he had spent all day picking, hoping that she would like them. He really hoped that she liked them, or he'd get the chance to kill somebody really soon. Blue balls had never been something that he'd had to deal with in the past; usually women fell over themselves to get at him.

After all, he was tall, well spoken, had a fantastic ass, and his accent had been tailored to get a woman wet at the first change in syllables. He had actually practiced that, and he didn't like to admit how long it had taken for him to master that skill. Nor did he like to admit how much gold he had made making sure that it was actual skill that he had to back the voice up. He didn't like to admit it, but he could literally buy his own services and that of his men with how much gold he had made practicing.

Actually, he did like admitting that, and he gladly would if Dany happened to ask how skilled he happened to be. For the moment though, he would refrain, and if the expression on the queen's face as she entered her own quarters was any indication, he would probably get killed for trying to be dashing.

"I thought I had guards on my door?" is what Dany decides to start their conversation with a mix of a question and an observation

"You do," He tells her with a smile, "But you don't have any at the windows."

"Something I'll have to correct then," Dany notes, stepping past him to pour herself a goblet of wine. She turns and raises an eyebrow at him before saying with some annoyance, "These are my private quarters."

"A perfect place to talk to you privately, then," Daario smiles, winking as he pulls the flowers he had picked from behind his back to show her.

"What are these, then?" Dany asks, stepping up to him and running her hand along their stalks.

"Flowers," He informs her simply, then when she raises her eyebrow he adds, "I had to swim to one of the islands off the bay and back to collect these for you."

"And am I meant to feel grateful for this feat?"

"Well, Marian did say you enjoyed grand gestures, and I've already taken a city for you," Daario tilts his head as he explains

"Oh, so I've gone from being worth a city to being worth a handful of flowers?" Dany chuckles

"You are worth all the effort in the world," Daario tells her, "Which is why I smell of seasalt and will for three days to come."

Dany takes a whiff of Daario's scent and nods, "So you do, and you thought this scent would appeal to me?"

"More hoped," Daario shrugs, "I only just got back."

"Then you must be tired," Dany notes. When Daario shrugs, Dany smirks, and tells him, "Come, lay down."

Daario is happy to oblige.


	17. Getting the Guard

**The Dragon and the Hawke 17**

Ser Jorah Mormont was a simple man, and an old knight. He knew to keep his mouth shut, follow orders, and answer to royalty. This was why he was a very good knight, and why he was something of a toothless advisor. No matter how much he believed in his own words, he felt that the monarch was the last word on everything, so he never fought too hard against any of Dany's proclamations and decisions.

Now, one may hear this and think back on his service to Robert Baratheon and ask, if that is the case, why does he not still serve the usurper or his children. The answer to that was the fact that Dany had the good grace to reveal divine selection in his presence. That and he was a dirty old man who got to see her naked several times. If there was one thing that would lead a man from Patriotism, it was his little head.

Jorah never regretted the decisions his second head had made. He often rationalized them, and described them differently, but it was all the same. Rationalization was why he had never expected his feelings for the queen to be returned, and why he was not as upset as some men would be at the sight of Daario Naharis leaving the queen's chamber early one morning.

He was upset that it wasn't somebody more trustworthy though. When the sellsword smiled and walked past him, he had to watch the man stride away before turning a corner. Once Daario was out of sight, he took a moment to compose himself before moving into the queen's chamber.

Dany was feeling really, really good that morning. She hadn't had sex since her first husband died, having never even tried to consummate with Xaro for the brief time she and the fat man had been married. And like that her good mood was broken, she shuddered and got out of bed.

Dressing quickly, the Mother of Dragons strode around her council table, stopping over Slaver's Bay and leaning down to look at her territory. It was in this position that she heard Jorah enter.

"Your grace," He called quietly in his raspy voice

"You're here early," She notes with a smirk

He snorts, and with just a sound he tells her all she needs to know. As he climbs the steps to her level she rolls her eyes and turns her head to look at him, "You don't approve?"

"It's not a matter of approval, your grace, merely trust."

She snorts, "You neither approve nor trust."

"The man's a sellsword."

"Didn't you fight with the golden company before pledging your sword to my brother?"

"I did."

"I trust you."

He clearly has no reply to that, and licks his lips before trying to change directions, "Putting your faith in a man like that will only lead to-"

"I do not put my faith in him," Dany tells him, "He is very good at sex."

Jorah droops his head, wishing she hadn't said that. With his eyes averted, he failed to see Dany's smirk, who thought about all the times that Marian had told her that men got terribly uncomfortable around the idea of women of high birth talking plainly about sex. They loved to use it as a weapon, but when the tables were turned they had no idea how to react to it.

"Daario has proven himself several times, and he has asked me to find work for himself and the Second Sons that includes more than patrolling," Dany tells him, "I've told him that he is to talk to Marian for any ideas that she might have, and then, if still nothing arises, I will begin to send him and his forces out to make sure more than the cities hold loyalty to me."

Jorah nods, seeing the wisdom of her ideas, and trying not to think to hard on what she said before those ideas. After a moment, he takes a deep breath and tells her, "When you are ready, I can have the latest reports brought in."

She waves her hand for him to do so and he steps out of the room. A moment later, he returns with three servants, each carrying a book and Jorah carrying a stack of papers. She looks up at him as he and the servants set everything on the table and raises an eyebrow in question. He pats each of the books in sequence and tells her, "The laws of Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor collected by the Knowing Slaves of some forgotten slaver lord a century ago. You will need to wade through them to find what you must change to create a single rule."

"Knowing Slaves?" Dany asks

"Slaves raised to be tutors for wealthy families," Jorah tells her

Dany nods, then shakes her head and pulls forth the book on laws in Meereen, thinking ruefully about how much easier it must be for Marian. All she had to do was throw fireballs.

Fireballs happened to be off the menu for Marian though, for the mage was relaxing in the bathing stream next to Missandei and a few other women. The former champion and current goddess was relaxing in a particularly warm patch of mud and water as Missandei wringed a rag of water.

"It would go quickler if you helped," the summer islander told her

"It would," Marian agreed, "But there is also the chance that I might set things on fire."

"You would do that?"

"Yep! I once set a week's worth of fresh clothes on fire because I got frustrated with all the wringing."

"You worry me."

"Why?"

"Your temper is nearly that of the dragons."

"Ha! Dragons have nothing on me!" Marian tells her lover, turning her head and opening one eye, "There's an old saying where I'm from; Mages are subtle in their manipulations, but quick to anger."

"You are not subtle," Missandei points out, rolling her eyes

"Yeah, but I'm quick to anger," Marian points out

Missandei snorts, and shakes her head in amusement. Her attention is turned to the sound of splashing down stream and she is privy to the sight of several unsullied having a good time. She smiles at the sight, knowing that it had never before been a possibility for them to have such whimsical activities as swimming for pleasure.

She also noticed a head staring at her. Furrowing her brow and focusing her eyes, she could see that it was Grey Worm. She couldn't tell much more, only that he seemed to be staring at her, and she really wasn't sure how she felt about that. She frowned, and stood taller, hoping to get a better look.

Sure enough, it was Grey Worm. After realizing that he was indeed staring at her, and that she was as naked as the day she was born, she covered herself. She lowered back down as the unsullied turned and swam away, a frown marring her features.

"What's wrong?" Marian asks, seeing the look on her face, sitting up and running a hand over her cheek.

Missandei looks to the swimming unsullied and gulps, she then licks her lips and tells her woman, "Grey Worm was watching me."

"He was?" Marian furrows her brow, then turns to look over at the unsullied before returning her gaze to Missandei, "Want me to talk to him when we're all dressed?"

Missandei thinks for a moment, then nods, worrying her lips as she tried to decide if she was making the right call. Marian smiled at her, kissed her, and pulled herself up, "Hey, relax! Grey's got no idea what he's thinking right now. You're very pretty, but I'll just tell him that he can look at other girls, but only I get to look at you like this."

Missandei furrows her brow again and looks up at Marian's face to ask what she meant, when she saw the look on Marian's face. She gulped in anticipation for what would inevitably come in later hours of the day.

Marian chuckles, then claps her hands, "Anyway! I've gotta go find Daario and see about setting up a city guard. Ddany wants me to try and copy the one that existed in Kirkwall."

"Didn't you say that they were terribly corrupt?"

"Yeah, but that was before my friend Aveline took over."

"Ah, and what are your hopes for Daario's guard?"

"That at least we'll know he's our kind of crooked."


	18. Interesting Topics

**The Dragon and the Hawke 18**

Building a proper policing force was never easy. There had to be an equal degree of fervor for justice, spite for crime, and a baffling ability to throw both of those away for the right amount of coin. Marian had to find the proper amount of coin before she could turn the Second Sons into the guard force for Dany's new empire.

Her job wasn't helped by the fact that Daario was just feeling way too smug to do any actual work for most of the day. She would send him the occasional glare, but she couldn't really say much on the subject for fear of learning too many details about her best friend's sex life. So she pressed on, and made use of ten years worth of boring lectures from Aveline to work on turning the mercenaries into a new force.

Once she was done, she handed the list of details she had written down and took her own turn to relax. She lay down on a comfortable chair and melted into the seat with a sigh as Daario read through three pages of notes.

After a while, he put them down and nods, "I like it."

"Really?" Marian perks up, "You don't think it's too much?"

Daario shakes his head, "Not at all, it's nice to see somebody with proper respect for a few crooked sellswords."

"Well I thought it was a nice compromise," Marian nods

"And it has nothing to do with your own habit of looting corpses?" Daario asks with a smirk

"Hey, I think if anyone deserves a little loot, it's the guys trying to protect it," Marian shrugs

"Of course, that is only when we have legal recourse."

"Absolutely! We can't have you guys being the ones to start riots!"

Daario snorts and sets the pages down, "I'll start work immediately."

Marian claps her hands and gets to her feet, "Great! I'm going out, later!"

He raises a hand in goodbye as she exits the room, mind already on how to get his company to conform to the relatively easy rules of being a guard. His favorite part of the rules had to be that he and his men had the right to outright kill someone who they thought broke the law badly enough to warrant it. Certainly they had to explain why they did it, but it gave them so much more leeway than they would have had in town if they had just been regular old mercenaries.

Marian, for her part, didn't think on what impact her concession would no doubt have on bar fights as she skipped out of the palace towards the market district. She never had been one to get introspective on her decisions. Her philosophy always had her looking to the future and living in the present, after all, you couldn't change the past. Maker knew how much she wished that last bit wasn't as true as it was, but there was no going back for anyone.

The mage shakes her head to get it off bad thoughts and smiles at the vendor she's bought apples from since she buried the slave masters. The man, now used to the god visiting him for trade, smiled back and handed her a nice green apple. Marian drops coins into his hand and takes the fruit, biting into it as she walks to the other end of the market.

Standing there, as he always is, is Trod Underfoot. The Unsullied smiled at her, and asked, "Are you well, today?"

"I am!" Marian nods, smiling at him as she pats his shoulder, "How are your language lessons going?"

"Well," He tells her.

"Good, good," Marian nods, then she asks, "Hey, awkward question, but, when they cut your dick off, did they actually cut your dick off, or just your balls?"

Trod turned and looked at her, and asked, "Dick?"

"You know," Marian runs her hand back and forth in front of her crotch.

Her unsullied friend gives no indication towards his amusement other than a raised eyebrow and tells her, "They leave shaft. Easier for peeing."

"Ah!" Marian nods, "Makes sense."

"Why? Not happy with Missandei?"

"Oh, no! I am very happy, very, very happy," Marian assures him, waving her free hand, "I'm asking cause Grey Worm was staring at her earlier, and we're trying to figure out if he's still got the necessary equipment to be thinking of sex."

Trod blinked at her, "Sex? Why would he… think of sex with Missandei?"

"Well Missy is a pretty lady," Marian shrugs, then a thought occurs, "Do you think of sex?"

"Yes," Trod nods

"Who do you think of it with?"

"You, and Fera."

"Oh," Marian nods, surprised but not judgemental. She also appreciated his honesty. After a second she asks, "Who's Fera?"

"Teacher," He tells her

"Ah, she pretty?"

"Yes," Trod nods, then adds, "He is."

Marian's eyebrows shoot up, and her head whips around to stare up at Trod, asking, "Really?"

Trod merely nods

"Hm, never would have guessed."

The Unsullied smirks under his helmet.

Back in the palace, a similar conversation was taking place between Dany and Missandei. The pair had worked on the three books of laws for most of the day, and as an afternoon snack was carried into Dany's chamber, they started talking about other things.

The first subject brought up was Daario. Dany was wistful, a bit shy, but most of all she was very satisfied and unafraid to share details with Missandei. In fact, it wasn't until the subject was changed to Missandei and Marian's encounter with Grey Worm at the river that Dany even thought of how uncomfortable that must have been for Missandei.

"Dothraki culture has no taboos against nudity or public displays of affection," She noted of her adopted culture, "You can be taken anywhere, at anytime, for anyone to see."

"I know, your grace," Missandei nods

"But you are not Dothraki," Dany frowns, as realization as to what he talking about Daario and her having sex must have been like for her.

"No, your grace," Missandei nods again, ever the proper woman.

"Should I tell him not to look?" The queen asked

"No," Missandei tells her, "Marian and I agreed that we would try and speak with him as one."

"Speaking of, how did she take his staring?" Dany asks

"Not as terribly as I have seen some men," Missandei tells her, "She neither lept up in rage, nor started to spit terrible words at me for being looked at."

"What did she do?"

Missandei smiled in that way that warmed Dany's heart. It told her so much and so little, and reminded her of Drogo and the love they shared so long ago. The queen did not press for answers, knowing that to do so would be impolite and invasive. Instead she decides to ask, "Do you know if the masters take all of it when they make the cut?"

"It?"

"The pillar and the stones."

"I do not know, your grace."

"Have you ever wondered?"

"Yes."

They stay silent for a moment, then Missandei realizes exactly how what she said could be misconstrued and adds, "but no more than a passing wonder."

Dany nods in understanding, "We should drop this topic."

"Please."


	19. Jorah Mormont

**The Dragon and the Hawke 19**

Things were going well for the new Targaryen Empire that Daenerys Stormborn had started, too well. Word of her success at subduing the three great cities of Slaver's bay had finally reached Westeros.

Now, Westeros didn't have much reason to care for a young queen on the far side of a continent an entire sea away, but appearances had to be maintained. Robert Baratheon had ordered the death of the Targaryen girl, and so his son must do the same now that word of her continued survival had finally been brought to the table.

Unfortunately, they didn't have any agents to spare at the moment, all of men actually being capable of murdering a well protected queen either being on opposite sides of a bloody civil war or dead, and so the decision was made to just cause strife.

Thankfully for the westerners, that was very easy to do, what with the fact that Jorah Mormont was one of the queen's favored advisors and had been a spy for them. With this knowledge all the Master of Whispers, the spymaster of King's Landing, had to do was send a letter that had been signed nearly half a decade ago.

The recipient of that letter was a very confused Barristan Selmy, who when he opened the letter and read the contents marched off to confront Ser Jorah. He found the man he had not an hour ago considered his friend in a mostly roofless building, a former sunning balcony that had been converted into the man's quarters.

Jorah looked up from a map of the known world at the sound of Barristan walking down the steps and greets him, "Ser Barristan."

"Ser Jorah."

"Did I forget a council meeting?"

"No," Barristan shakes his head, then holds out the scroll that had come halfway across the world.

"What's this?" Jorah asks as he takes the scroll

"A pardon," Barristan tells him, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Jorah, "From Robert Baratheon."

Jorah blinks, and his eyes fall to the paper. He reads it, then closes his eyes in pain, before asking, "Have you told her?"

"No," the queensguard shakes his head, "I wouldn't go behind your back."

Jorah winces a bit at the dig, but nods, then requests, "Let me speak to her, in private."

Barristan shakes his head sadly, "You'll never be alone with her again."

He then held out his hand for the letter. Jorah nodded, slowly rolling the paper up and then set it into the knight's hand. Barristan and Jorah locked eyes, both feeling a deep regret, though for different reasons, and then the older man left.

It took another hour for Barristan to reach the palace and call for a council meeting. He was sure to make clear that Jorah was not to be included in this missive, and then he ascended the pyramid to the council chambers.

One by one, the other members of the council made their way into the chamber, and after a while Dany came out of her personal quarters to see what was going on. When she saw the whole council with the exception of Jorah assembled she had to asks, "What is going on?"

Marian and Daario both shrug, and everyone looks to Barristan. Dany herself turns her attention to him and she simple enquires with her eyes.

"Your grace," Barristan tries to think of how to tell her what he has learnt, but no words come to he. After a second, he simply holds out the letter to her.

Dany furrows her brow, and gently takes the letter. She notes the seal, one she has not seen before, then unfurls the scroll. She reads the contents, and blinks. She sits down heavily and sets the scroll on the table, her throat suddenly dry.

Marian draws the letter to herself with some telekinesis and opens it herself. She reads it, and frowns. She licks her lips and sets the letter on the table and asks, "So, how'd you get this?"

"It was delivered to me," Barristan tells her, and the room at large, "But a child I had not seen before, and he did not tell me where he got it himself. I suspect that he is one of Varys's little birds."

"Who is Varys?" Dany asks

"The Master of Whispers, the royal spymaster of Westeros."

"What is in the letter?" Daario asks

"It is a royal pardon," Dnay tells him, "For Ser Jorah, signed by robert Baratheon."

Daario furrows his brow, then turns to Barristan, then Marian for some form of explanation. Missandei and Grey Worm simply lean forward, awaiting an explanation themselves. Marian is the one to answer, telling them, "Robert Baratheon was the man who usurped Dany's family from Westeros. He's also dead, and has been since before I met Dany and Jorah."

"He has been dead for three years," Dany tells them, "And this pardon was signed five years ago."

"It could be a ploy," Daario offers, thinking, "Trying to seed discord amongst our ranks."

"Oh, there is no doubt about that," Barristan nods, "I was given the letter, not Jorah. No, it certainly is a ploy. The problem is that the pardon is still valid."

"How do you know?" Dany asks quietly

"I confronted Jorah, before coming here," Barristan tells her, "From his reaction, I knew."

Dany nods, "Summon him, and we will meet him in the throne room."

The group stood nearly as one, and they made their way down to the throne room. Only Grey Worm separated from them, to tell one of his men to summon forth Ser Jorah.

It was to a united front that Jorah entered the throne room. He slowed down when he saw that the entire council was assembled to hear him speak. To accentuate just how serious the matter was, he could see that even Marian was sitting straight for this hearing. He began to ascend the steps, stopping only when Barristan and Grey Worm made move to stop him from going any higher.

He swallows, and bows his head, "Your grace."

"Why did the usurper pardon you?" Was her question

Jorah looks up at her face, then his head lowers again as he asks, "If we could speak alone?"

"No," Is the definitive response, "You will tell me here, explain it to me."

Truly not wanting to tell her, he instead tries to divert attention, and asks, "Who do you think sent this to Meereen? Who profits? This is the work of Tywin Lannister."

"Who?" Marian asks

Barristan turns his head to her and shakes it, telling her silently that he would explain later. She nods as Jorah goes on, "He wants to divide us. If we're fighting each other, we're not fighting him."

"The pardon was signed the year we met," Dany tells him, and as he straightens his back in an effort to shore himself, she asks again, "Why were you pardoned? Unless you're saying this document was forged?"

Jorah can hear the hope in her tone, and he so wishes that he could reassure her. He wished that he could tell her that it was a forgery, that there was no truth in it and that he had been loyal to her since the first day that they had met each other.

But he would not lie to her again, "It is not forged."

"Why then?"

"I sent letters to Varys, the spymaster of King's Landing."

"What was the contents of these letters?"

"Information."

"What information?"

"He probably told them everything," Marian buts in with a sigh, and bows her head when Jorah nods at her assertion.

"Did you tell them I was carrying Drogo's child?"

"I," Jorah swallows

Before he can continue, she asks, "Yes or no?"

"His answer is yes," Marian tells her, eyes once more locked on Jorah

Dany's eyes widened in rage and she stands, descending the steps to Jorah, "That wine merchant tried to poison me, because of you."

"I stopped you from drinking that wine."

"Because you knew the attempt was coming."

"I suspected."

"You betrayed me!" Dany accuses him, whispering harshly, anger pouring from her lips as she regards the man she had once seen as a friend and now knew as lower than any she had ever met before, "From the first."

Jorah drops to his knees and starts to beg, but before he can say anything, he is struck by a jolt of lightning and thrown back. Dany jumps up a step as he is thrown down the stairs. She watches him tumble, roll, and finally drop onto the lower platform of the throned staircase as Marian steps up beside her.

She turns to her friend, but before she can say anything, Marian whispers to her, "I know, you hate him right now. But eventually, you will regret any decision that you make in anger, and right now, you are so angry that it's making me angry."

Dany does not say anything, only orders, "Leave us! And take Jorah to his quarters, he is not to leave until I have reached a decision on what to do with him."

There is a murmur of agreement, and the rest of the council shuffle off the throned stairs. Missandei and Daario both look back up at the throne before exiting fully, and take comfort in Marian's reassuring smile.

And then they are alone, and Dany falls into Marian's arms with a quiet sob.

The mage bears her friend's weight, and gently lowers them until she is sitting on the steps and Dany is leaning against her. She runs her hand down Dany's hair and whispers reassuring nothings as her friend releases all of her anger at Jorah.

"Why would he do it?" Dany finally asks after a moment

"He didn't know you," Marian tells her, "He started when he met you, before he became devoted to you."

"He killed my son," Dany whispered

"No, that witch did," Marian corrects

"He as good as did."

"Maybe, but right now, you can't make a decision on what to do to him. As it is, I think you'd probably banish him from the Empire."

"I would have."

"See, I'd recommend just sending him to Yunkai or Astapor."

"Why?"

"You're angry at him, and don't want him near you. But you could also use someone who knows how you want things run helping run one of the other cities."

"But I don't trust him."

"Neither do I," Marian assures her friend, smiling softly, "But he is our friend, and no matter what, you give your friends a second chance."

"And how many do they deserve?"

"Only one, that's why it's called a second chance."


	20. Contracts

**The Dragon and the Hawke 20**

The days after Jorah's reassignment to Yunkai were difficult. The entire council was out of sorts, trying to pick up the pieces where they had dropped with the revelation. It seemed as though the whole of Meereen were feeling the absence of Ser Jorah Mormont, and it was in this moment that the worst that Dany had ever seen decided to strike.

She smiled as the former slave, Fennesz, introduces himself and tells her that he can speak in the common tongue, "You speak it very well."

"Before you freed me," Fennesz tells her, "I belonged to Master Mighdal. I was tutor to his children, I taught them languages and history. They know a great deal about your family because of me."

Dany smiles at the slight praise, and even more so when he tells her, "Little Calla is only seven, but she admires you very much."

"I hope I can prove worthy of her admiration," Dany tells him, then cuts to the heart of the matter, "What can i do for you?"

Fennesz licks his lips, and then informs her, "When you took the city, the children begged me not to leave the house, but Master Mighdal and I agreed that I must. So I lost my home."

Dany's smile drops, and she looks down and over to Marian, who is already rubbing her eyes. It is clear that the mage knows where Fennesz would be going with this, but Dany had to continue listening, hoping that it was not the case.

"Now I live on the streets," He tells her next.

"I have outfitted mess halls to feed all former slaves and barracks to shelter them," Dany tells him, her brow furrowing.

"I do not mean to offend, your grace," Fennesz tells her, slowly, and angrily, "But I went to one of those places. The young prey on the old, take what they want, and beat us if we resist."

Dany nods, "I was aware of that problem, but you must have last gone to one some time ago, the new city guard has taken care to stop such activities."

Daario nods, and from beside the queen, he adds, "We've not had that problem for the last week, sir."

"It is not a question of if it is a problem, or if it has been solved," Fennesz tells her, "Who will I be there? What purpose will I serve?"

"Oh no," Marian groans, rubbing her eyes, and everyone looks to her. The mage rights herself in her chair and looks up at Fennesz, the old man having been allowed to ascend the stairs to nearly her platform, and asks, "You want to sell yourself back into slavery, don't you?"

"What?" Dany asks, and she demands to know, "Why would he want such a, why would you want such a thing?"

"You said it yourself," Marian tells her, head turning to her friend, "People learn to love their chains."

"No," Dany declares, definitively

"Your grace," Fennesz, "The young may rejoice at the new world that you have made, but I am old, and I am afraid of a world that I have no purpose in. Please, allow me to sell myself back to Master Mighdal."

"You wish to again be property?" Dany demands to know, "like a goat or a chair!?"

"Please, your grace," Fennesz begs, "There are many outside who wish to ask the same as I, please, allow us this."

"I did not take Slaver's Bay so that i could preside over the very system that I swore to destroy," Dany tells him angrily, and then she takes a breath, and tells him, "But freedom means making your own choice."

All eyes move to Dany, and she tells Fennesz, "i will allow you to enter into a contract with your former master. It may not exceed a period of more than one year."

"Thank you, your grace," Fennesz bows his head, and turns to start moving down the stairs.

Before he can get too far, Marian calls for his attention, and he turns back, "Be sure to tell your master that what the queen is allowing is not Slavery. It is a job."

Fennesz furrows his brow, "Your holiness?"

Marian rolls her eyes at the honorific, but presses on and tells the man, "Your former master is obliged to feed you, clothe you, and treat you as well as he would his own brother. Should he break that, he will incur my wrath. Afterwards, if I leave him alive, the city guard will take him to the dungeons to spend the rest of his life in chains. Is this clear?"

Fennesz nods, terrified. He starts down the stairs again, and tries not to stop when he hears Marian turn to Daario and tell him, "I expect you and your boys to check up on contract holders once a week."

Daario nods as Fennesz exits the throne room and a new person enters. The day continues like this for the next several hours, and like the first former slave, Dany gives permission for six more old slaves to re-enter the services of their masters.

At the end of the day, Dany cannot handle it any more, and takes to her rooms faster than she ever had before. The day's supplicants had gotten to her, and she was reminded to a terrible extent how she had done much the same when it came to wedding Xaro, or with Drogo. Though with her first husband, it had been less a form of slavery than a conventional marriage to an unconventional man.

She stayed in her rooms, alone, for a long time. It took hours for anyone to check up on her, and when they did, they revealed themselves to be Daario. The former mercenary and newly appointed commander of the guard entered the queen's chambers with careful steps, looking around for her. He finally sees her sitting in a chair that had been dragged out onto the balcony.

He made sure that she could hear him long before he joined her on the balcony. He stood in silence, looking over Meereen with her as he waited for her to start speaking. Eventually, once she has grown tired of the uncomfortable silence, she starts to talk, "Why did they wish to return to their masters?"

Daario turns to her, and leans against the stone railing of the balcony as he thought of how to answer her. Once he reached the decision to share his own story, he started to tell her, "Did you know I was a slave?"

Dany looked up at him with surprise, and shakes her head. He nods, "I was, my mother was a whore, and when she didn't have enough money for another bottle of wine, she sold me for one."

The queen stands, and steps up to him. He smiles as she runs a hand over his face and waited for him to continue, "I became a pit fighter in Meereen. I was swift and skilled, and eventually I made my master enough money that he decided to free me as a reward."

He turns himself and Dany around and sits in the now empty chair, pulling her onto his lap. She lays over him as he continues, "Freed, I didn't know exactly what to do, so in the end I just kept doing what I was good at. I am only good at two things, killing and women."

"You have mentioned," Dany agrees, "Though you also seem to be very good at policing."

"True," Daario agrees, "But I didn't know that then. So I went to the Second Sons and joined them."

"You went back to what you knew," Dany nods, "Is that what they wanted?"

"Everyone likes to have a purpose," Daario tells her, "That purpose doesn't have to be grand, or even good, but it gives everyone a sense of fulfilment."

Dany sighs, and asks, "Did I do the right thing? Letting them sell themselves back?"

"But that isn't what you did," Daario corrects her, "And thanks to Marian, everyone knows that."

"She can be rather explicit, can't she?" Dany snorts in amusement

"I have never met anyone with her sense of determined horror," Daario agrees, "I am rather curious as to where she got it."

"From what she has told me," Dany tells him, "She spent a long time dwelling in a realm inhabited by demons, and learnt their trade better than them so that they would avoid her."

"Ah," Daario nods, "And she still insists that she isn't divinely powered?"

Dany snorts, and the two fall into a companionable silence as the night presses on.

Marian, the last subject of their conversation, is having one of her own with Missandei. The pair had been debating the best way to talk to Grey Worm about his staring without making all of them incredibly awkward around each other.

If Marian was being honest, she didn't expect it to come to them furtively avoiding each other's eyes no matter how they talked to him, but all the same it was better to plan for the worst. So far, they had ruled out at least sixteen different ways to bring the subject up gently, and more and more were leaning towards just talking to him about it in a direct and open dialogue.

Unfortunately, they were people, and it seems that people always have trouble being honest with each other. Thus in the end, the debate on how to talk to a young man about his staring at a woman was pushed off for another night and instead the subject was changed to involve Dany's recent capitulation.

"Do you think she did the right thing?" Marian asks, gently running her hand along Missandei's back as she stared up at the ceiling.

Missandei exhales and thinks, her own hand tracing circles along Marian's stomach as she did. Eventually she says, "Yes, I believe so."

"It's not still slavery is it?" Marian asks, "We didn't let that creep back into the woodwork, did we?"

"No," Missandei shakes her head, eliciting a giggle from Marian as the woman's nose plays along her shoulder, "It is close, but it is not. You have made sure of that."

"I hope we did the right thing," Marian tells her

"We do our best," Missandei lifts her head, "The right thing can only be called so after the results are revealed."

"I have no idea what that means."

"Neither do I," Missandei confides, "It was something written by an old maester from Westeros."

"Well we're not in Westeros," Marian tells her, poking her in the nose with a smirk, "So let's come up with our own wisdom."

Missandei nods, and lays back down. A few minutes later, they are both asleep.


	21. By Scent

**The Dragon and the Hawke 21**

It was surprising how long the Dragon Empire got their respite from trouble. A full month of peace, progress, and strange hijinx courtesy of a mad mage and a pack of dragons. It was surprising how fast the amazing can turn into the mundane, and even dragons grow mundane after a long enough period where they don't kill people or conquer cities.

Marian sat against Drogon's flank as she threw chunks of meat at him and his brothers to pass the time. Beside her, Trod Underfoot watched with fascination as the mighty beasts devoured their treat, "How do you keep them so calm?"

"I treat them like I treated my Mabari."

"What is a Mabari?"

"It's a species of dog from my homeland. It has the intelligence of a human to a certain extent."

"How can an animal have a man's intelligence?"

"No idea," Marian shrugs, then pats Drogon's head as the dragon craned its neck to stare at Trod in irritation, "I just know that they can understand us, and if you want, you can teach them to play cards."

Trod, being the highly trained and experienced soldier that he was, managed not to shit himself as the black dragon glared at him with one massive eye. Gulping, he finally says, "Apologies, I meant no offense."

The dragon gives a snort and snags another piece of meat that Marian throws up, then his head snakes back to face forward as he chew his treat. The two humans and three dragons continue to while away the day as the mage and unsullied talk about various topics that pique their interest. One topic that both steadily avoid is their love lives.

Marian and Missandei had been enjoying each other's company for more than a month now, and it was great, but Trod was not so lucky. The Unsullied had been struck by the unfortunate nature of being a eunuch, and so his abilities were terribly compromised. As a courtesy, Marian never brought up how happy she was when she was with her friend.

Fortunately, or unfortunately due to the reason, they were accosted before they ran out of things to talk to. A large unsullied entered the great arena in search of the Thunder God and found her sitting with one of his brothers along the side of the great black shadow of the queen.

The unsullied, a particularly devoted individual, marched up to her with determination and rattled off the information that Commander Grey Worm had given him. Marian blinks up at the soldier, then stands along with Trod. Turning to his friend, she asks, "What did he say?"

Trod, face grim, tells her, "Commander Grey Worm and the Queen have need of your presence, there has been a murder of one of the Unsullied and she would appreciate your counsel."

Marian doesn't reply, merely starts walking towards the exit of the arena. After they get out of the second greatest structure in Meereen she turns to her unsullied followers and asks, "Where are we going?"

Trod relays the question to his brother, and the unsullied rattles off a location. Understanding the street name and the district, Marian sets off and the two unsullied follow. They pass through the streets, twist and turn with the roads as people respectfully step out of their way. Eventually, they reach a small house and Marian enters.

Dany, Grey Worm, and Daario stand in the building, looking over the corpse of a man. They turn at her entrance, Daario's blade nearly out of its sheath before they realize that it is her. They relax, slightly, and turn back to the corpse.

"What happened?" Marian asks, stepping up beside Daario, looking over the corpse.

The former mercenary and newly created guard captain kneels down and starts explaining, "This was White Rat, one of Grey Worm's Lieutenants. According to witnesses, he paid a whore for the evening and entered her home. The body was found early this morning by the owner of the house, who says he comes in every day to get his rent."

"Rent?" Marian asks, "Isn't that a weekly thing?"

"Not if the whore payed him in sex," Daario tells her, and she 'ahh's

"Who did it?" Dany asks, her voice choked and cold

"The only hint, is this," Daario shows them a golden mask.

"Is that a harpy?" Marian asks

"Is it?" Daario turns the mask over and narrows his eyes, "It does bear a certain resemblance to the statues, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Marian nods, "They threw the statue in the arena when they toppled it, so I've been staring at that face all day. It's basically the same."

"So what does it mean?" Dany asks, determined to get answers

"Probably a revenge killing of some kind," Daario tells her, "It would make sense for embittered masters to try and strike back against those that have harmed them. And you, my queen, have harmed them greatly."

Dany frowns, then orders, "Have White Rat entombed in the Temple of the Graces, it should tell the masters who would dare take one of my men from me that I hold him higher than them."

Marian gives her a thumbs up, "A great big 'fuck you!' I like it!"

"Yes, it is fun, but it may incite more of this," Daario tells them

"Well then, I guess you better double the guard patrol," Marian tells him

Daario sighs, but nods, "I'll start asking for volunteers."

"Be sure to tell them that if they bring me a man who carries a mask of this harpy," Dany tells him, eyes burning with rage, "That they will receive a substantial reward."

"How substantial? I could get my boys all riled up for the right amount."

"How much would you think makes sense?"

"Extra month's pay should about do it."

"Make it so," Dany exits the room with a flourish, Grey Worm gives Marian and Daario respectful nods before following her out.

Once the queen had left, Marian sighs, "She's angry."

Daario snorts, "Of course she's angry, one of her men was just murdered. i'd feel the same about a few of my friends."

"And with Dany, everyone in her service is a friend," Marian agrees. Then she shakes her head, claps her hands, and points at the mask, "We should find the gold smiths in the city."

Daario looks down at the mask, "Right. This is fine work, and solid gold. We find who made them, we find who they made them for."

"Exactly," Marian nods

"I'll get my men on it," Daario tells her, then looks down at the corpse and says, "And I'll have them take the body to the temple."

Marian nods, and closes White Rat's eyes before they exit the small house. Before they split, Marian takes the mask from Daario, telling him that she had an idea. Heading in opposite directions, Marian picks up her entourage of two on her way back the way she had come.

Eventually, she was back in the great arena, and the dragons were looking at her curiously. Smiling at them, she asks, "Who wants to eat a bad guy?"

All three dragons leap forwards, with Drogon and Viserion smashing into each other in their excitement. With them waylaid by their own bulk, Rhaegal, who had been further from his brothers, excitedly hopped in front of Marian.

The mage smiled and rubbed his snout, before lifting up the golden mask of the harpy, "See this? Whoever wore this made your mother very upset, and he killed one of her men."

Rhaegal nods in understanding, eye slits narrowing in anger as his focus locked on the mask. He listened to Marian as his neck started to sway from side to side, "I want you to get the scent of the man who did it. Can you do that Rhaegal?"

The massive dragon chuffs in indignation at being doubted and takes a massive sniff of the mask, putting his snout right up against it. Using all of her arm strength, Marian manages not to have her hand dragged into the dragon's nostril.

Rhaegal leans his head back, having collected all of the scents on the mask. Looking down at Marian, he waits for further instructions. Marian smiles at him, "I want you to take off, and sniff this bastard out. Once you find him, or her, I want you to land of their roof and wait for the city guard to get to you, then point out the culprit. If you get attacked by anyone, you have my permission to eat them."

Rhaegal, being a dragon, was incapable of smiling, but he did have a distinctly giddy air about him as he took off. Marian watched him fly up then start circling before turning back to her companions, "Alright, next stop is the guard house."


	22. Happy Hunting

**The Dragon and the Hawke 22**

Trying to follow a dragon on a hunt is impossible. This is for the simple fact that a dragon can fly. The massive creature takes to the air and just goes up for a good ten seconds before it starts to glide.

Rhaegal was no different from any other flying beast in this regard. That he and his brothers were in fact the only flying beasts actually around didn't take away from the comparison. After he got himself a decent height, the dragon started circling. He didn't try and circle the arena, or pick out the scents associated with the mask just yet. Instead, he was getting a feel for the scent of the city.

It was one that he had grown accustomed to over the last months, so it had faded into simple background stench by this point, and so he had to reacquaint himself with all of the particular nuances of his environment before he started to pick out singular traces.

He circled the city for half an hour before he felt comfortable enough to start his search, and then he started strafing the streets. He was amused by the screams of shock, fear, and wonder that he received as he flapped his powerful wings over the small creatures upon the ground. He noted thousands of different scents, and there were many that carried a similar scent to what was on the mask, but not most, and they were not his prey.

He strafed, glided, and roared for the sheer enjoyment of it, and eventually he found his prey. In a lavish home, one that reminded him of the fat dark skinned man from across the sea that had taken him and his brothers from Mother, he found his prey. He gave a screech of triumph as he slams down on the building's roof, and sends a gout of flame into the sky.

There are screams from inside the building, and he can smell his query defecate himself before trying to flee. Rhaegal took off as the man who wore the mask ran from the house, and started to flee through the streets. Rhaegal gave a series of screeches meant to increase the level of fear in his prey, which succeed.

Had he been a human, he would have laughed at how easy it was to get this stupid man to do exactly as he wanted. And what Rhaegal wanted was actually terribly clever; he was counting on the man to lead him to more like him. The dragon was not a fool, and those scents that reminded him of this one's mask were no doubt part of the same group, much like how all the Unsullied had something of a similar scent in them no matter how independent they became.

If his prey led him to his compatriots, then no doubt he would get an even bigger reward for doing a good job. He could ask for anything! A cow even! He hadn't had whole cow all to himself in his entire life and he was willing to beg Mother and Marian for the chance to enjoy such a feast.

But first he had a job to do, and that required that he seem to vanish from his prey's senses. This was terribly easy, all he had to do was land on the roofs above the man and trot along with his pace rather than fly above. The man did not look to his sides, nor to the roofs, he only looked up, and he looked relieved when he caught no sight of Rhaegal for an entire minute.

Humans were so easy to fool, was all that Rhaegal could think as the man slowed to a stop and laughed in triumph. The green dragon slithered along with the human, tracking him from his new vantage as the now calmed human moved casually through the crowds so as to not attract attention.

Rhaegal chuffs at the act, he can still smell the scent of recent shit coming off the man in waves. He ducks his head immediately after, as his chuff comes out as a loud bark. The man spins, looking around, and then starts to move away. When he peeks again, Rhaegal can see that the man has dismissed the sound.

It took a full hour for the man to get where he was going. It was a rather inconsequential building, for a former slave master. What that meant, was that it stood only three stories tall, and its gardens only had flowers and grass.

His job done, Rhaegal lay across the roof opposite the building, relaxing in the sun as he watched it. He lay there, fantasizing about cows and exotic meats as he waited for Mother's men to show up at Marian had told him they would.

That took less time than he thought it would.

Daario and his city guard moved onto the street below the green dragon less than ten minutes after Rhaegal had gotten settled. They quickly took covert positions along the road as Daario looked up at the dragon that stared down at him. It always unnerved him when he saw the cruel yet indifferent intelligence behind those slitted eyes. They bore into his soul, and always he was judged not good enough for something. There were only two beings that he had ever seen those eyes soften for, and they were Dany and Marian.

In those eyes, there was love for Dany, and respect for Marian, he warranted neither. He might even warrant some contempt now that he thought about it, but that was something to think about later. Right now, the issue to deal with was that Rhaegal was pointing to the building across from him with one talon.

Daario nods, then looks to his men and indicates the building in question. There is an assortment of nods, and ten of his thirty men break off from their hiding spots to move behind the house to cut off escape.

They move silently, years of infiltration missions, assassinations, and an assortment of bad deeds done for people with a lot of gold giving them a great ability to be quiet when necessary. After they disappear from sight, Daario signals and the rest of his men form up around the front of the house. Six climb the walls to get to second floor balconies, and then Daario gives the signal.

As one, they enter.

There is a splintering of wood as doors are kicked in, and the screech of metal on metal as swords are drawn. Inside, dozens of men stand around, having clearly been in the midst of a serious discussion. Eyes turn to the doors and the guards, then they flick to the walls. Following their eyes, Daario can see, stacked on shelves, were golden masks.

There is a great silence as this information is absorbed, indexed, and then Daario waves his hand at the men who lived in the house, "On your bellies, or we'll open them up."

A few of the men drop, but the majority draw long daggers. They give shouts, and then charge. In a second, battle is joined. It is mercenary turned guard against lazy masters turned revolutionaries. The battle does not last long.

Daario only manages to stab one man through the heart and cut another's throat before all those that tried to fight either turned tail to run into his men behind the house, or dropped to the ground with various fatal injuries. The guard captain snorts at the soft nature of slave masters, then starts to issue orders to those who were smart enough to surrender.

Two minutes after they entered, Daario and his men came back out of the house, five men heavier. Leaving a team to search the premises, Daario led his new captives out into the streets. The former slave masters had their hands tied behind their backs as they were led through the great city of Meereen, much to the enjoyment of the crowds.

The trek from the house to the palace was a long one, and by the time they reached it a crowd had formed in anticipation. Dany had decided to meet them in the market before the palace, and Rhaegal dropped from the roofs to plant himself beside her. Marian was also there, looking happy, and giving the guards a pair of enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Captain Naharis, who have you brought before me?" Dany asks, in that regal tone that she preserved only for those that had pleased her, but she needed to remain professional with.

"Insurrectionists, your grace," He tells her, bowing his head, "They call themselves 'The Sons of the Harpy.'"

"Is this all their number?" Dany asks, looking over the prisoners with disdain and anger.

"No, your grace," he tells her, and tugs one of the prisoners forward, "This is Grasso zo Jorros, one of the Harpies, and he begs for your mercy in exchange for information."

"And what information does he possess that you do not?" Dany asks

"More than i care to say, your grace," Daario admits, "But given enough time I could make him talk."

"As could the Thunder God," Dany shrugs, "But both methods would take more time than I like. Very well, Grasso zo Jorros, your life will be spared and you will spend the rest of your days comfortably in one of my cells, rather than in the stomach of my Dragons."

At hearing what his treat will be, Rhaegal perks his head up excitedly and starts looking over the captured masters. The men who had been too stubborn to give up their organization were beginning to regret their decision, and soon enough another called that he was willing to trade information for life in a cell.

This set off a cacophony of shouts as the masters pleaded for their lives, begging to be allowed to make the same deal as Grasso. Dany was unfazed, though, and merely turned her head to Marian, "They will be at your tender mercies."

"Ooh, you mean you're finally letting me blow their minds?" Marian asks

"So long as you get some form of information out of it, yes," Dany nods, then waves a hand for Daario to follow, and drag Grasso zo Jorros along with him.

Once they had vanished, Marian smiled devilishly at her victims and told them, "So, it looks like I get to play with Rhaegal's food! I hope you don't mind my terrible habit, but I really must see what goes on inside those heads!"

She smacks her hands onto either side of the first Harpy's head, and the man gives a surprised cry of pain. This is quickly followed by a scream of agony as Marian digs through his thoughts at an accelerated rate. She tears thoughts from his head, faces from his memory, and plans from his scheming little melon before she burnt him out.

There is a pop as the man's eyes explode, and Marian blinks, and moves her head away. She sighs, not having gotten all she could, but turns to her next victim with a smile. The man cries in terror, the sight of the Thunder God covered in the blood of his late friend bringing the man to tears.

Marian sighs, and this time she gently takes his head between her palms. She never could be cruel to crying people, and even former slave masters were no exception. This sympathy lasted all of six seconds before she found some of his darker memories. She watched as he did horrible and unspeakable things to people who served him for the simple joy of doing it.

His whole head popped by the time she was done with him. She sighed, then with a flick, his corpse joined the other one, and Rhaegal dug into the treat as she turned to her next subject.


	23. Arguing about nothing

**The Dragon and the Hawke 23**

It took a week for the fate that befell the Sons of the Harpy that were caught to reach every corner of Meereen. The story spread quickly, that the Thunder God hated the slavers of Meereen so greatly that she would destroy their souls if they went against the Queen and her divine quest was the most popular story that was told.

Marian would never realize it, but everything she did seemed to make her legend all the more powerful. She would never see them, but shrines and churches would be devoted to her for years to come. The only thing she would notice would be a strange increase in power that she felt as the years would go on.

Belief is a powerful tool, and when there was only one being as connected to the collective consciousness of humanity as Marian was, the belief in her power would transfer to her real power. The fade was a realm of dreams, of fantasy, and so fiction could often become fact. Marian Hawke may have started as a mage when she joined Daenerys Targaryen on her quest to free Slavers Bay, but by the end of the conquest, she was a god as much as any being ever was.

But the subject of Marian Hawke's divinity wasn't what was on the table, what was on the table was what to do with the single Son of a Harpy that had given up his fellows. Grasso zo Jorros was a coward, a cad, and a fat, lazy little man who had never done a day of hard work in his entire life. He had begged for his life, agreed to a small cell with no windows and a single hot meal a day in order to save what little life he had left.

This did not please two of the new members of Dany's council. Mossador was a former Slave, and had been elected to the council by the collective voice of the former slave population. Hizdahr zo Loraq was just the opposite, a former master who was reviled by the other masters because of moderate political view. Dany had chosen him quite sneakily, having the Masters chose who they did not wish to be their representative and then choosing that man all the same.

That they bought it made Marian laugh for five straight minutes right in their faces after they had been told who would be speaking for them. But the failings of lazy assholes who used to run the city were not the topic of conversation.

"He must be treated as the others were!" Mossador declared, again. the man banged his fist against the table with fury at the thought that even one man who would dare stand against the queen and her new paradise would live.

"The queen has already given her word that he will live the remainder of his life in a cell," Hizdahr reminds the man for the fifth time, "To kill him would be to bring doubt upon all of her decisions up until this moment!"

"You are saying that the queen cannot change her mind?" Mossador challanges

"I am saying that if she does so, the masters will be convinced that there is no salvaging their lives in her new empire and they will flock to rebellion, casting doubt on her power as a quarter of her population sparks into open rebellion," Hizdahr informs the man

"And would you be among that quarter?" Dany asks, an eyebrow raising

"No, your grace," Hizdahr tells her, his eyes turning to her with the measured pace of a man who had been trained from birth to live in the air of politics and did not want to give anything away, "I am not so foolish as to think the masters would survive any attempt at insurrection. Especially with her holiness and your children."

He points to Marian, who smiles slightly at the compliment, but it is brittle. The mage did not like that she was thought of divinely, which was half the reason she would never end up learning the extent of her religious influence.

The discussion went in circles, as it had done for days now. Mossador would beg for Grasso's death, and Hisdahr would beg for his life, and all the while Dany did not agree or disagree with either. This had been suggested to her by Barristan, who had been privy to seeing Tywin Lannister rule, as well as Robert Baratheon.

He had told her how each had led their men; one had been a soldier who loved to fight, and his men followed him for it, while the other had been a general, and his men feared him too much to go against anything he said. Barristan had told her that he had always thought that the best way to rule should be some form of middle ground between the two.

So that was what Dany was trying. She was trying to let her council talk, decide things, and only when she was certain she did not agree with their decision would she intervene. Thus far, her chosen method had proven effective, especially with Mossador and Hizdahr on the council. Both men were from the city, knew how it ran, from different points of view. They would bicker, fight, and disagree on almost everything; but those things that they did agree on seemed to be the best ideas that any of her council had come up with.

One of the first of these decisions had been the idea to change the armor for the Unsullied. Mossador had confided that while he and his fellow free men were grateful for their presence and felt a kinship with them, they did not reassure them. The Unsullied had been a slave army, and a powerful one, before Dany had freed them; and more than anything it was a symbol of the old order, the slave order. As a result, he had made the suggestion that they be changed from the Unsullied to the Drakes, or something similar.

Hizdahr had agreed with the former slave, though his reasons were more pragmatic and less emotional. He cited that the armor that the Unsullied wore was weak leather, made for a cheap and replaceable soldier. If Dany wished to keep her army whole, she would invest in better garment for them. Not to mention the fact that creating a new market for forging and fitting armor for the Unsullied would create a large pool of jobs for many of the homeless of Meereen.

Dany had smiled, agreed, and told them to work on a design for Grey Worm's approval. It was decisions like that, that gave her the strength to listen to the two bicker about one man who would never again see the light of day. They were smart enough to keep the argument about the man out of other business though. Never did they bring up Grasso before anything else, always saving the discussion about him for the end of Council meetings.

It had become very routine by the fifth day, and as the pair got into the heat of their argument, Dany finally told them, "Enough."

Both men immediately stop their argument and turn to her, "I will not have Grasso zo Jorros executed."

Before Mossador can voice the objection he clearly wishes to, she raises a hand and tells him, "Grasso is another example that I am setting. He will spend the rest of his days in his cell. He will never see the sun, never know a woman, and never be free. This is as much a death sentence as what Marian did in the Market. It will only take longer."

Mossador, who admittedly hadn't thought of that, nods, mollified. Hizdahr on the other hand looks slightly sick, but before he can raise his own objections, Marian tells him, "Grasso zo Jorros and his ilk plotted my demise and the re-enslavement of the free people of Meereen. He deserves far worse than the mercy I have given him, but I have given it, and he will suffer it. Unless you would have me kill him to spare him this pain?"

Hizdahr shakes his head, "No, your grace."

"I did not think so," Dany nods, "You both may go."

Mossador and Hizdahr nod, stand, and exit, leaving Marian, Missandei, Daario, and Barristan.

The old knight is the first to speak, "Well worded, your grace."

Dany nods, a slight smile playing on her lips as she stands and moves to the balcony, "What has Grasso told us?"

"The Sons of the Harpy are far from dead," Daario tells her, following and leaning against a beam, "He tells that there are many lower masters in the city who do not like the change, and wish to see the old system restored. They take gold from investors, and pay others to join them. He told me he believes that there could be hundreds of them, by now."

"How does he know all this?" Barristan asks

"He claims that his father is one of the men who started the Harpies," Daario tells him, rubbing his beard, "And that his father told his mistress to impress her, and the mistress told him to impress him."

"Why would the mistress be talking to both the father and the son?" Dany asks

Marian snorts at her friend's naivete, and rolls her eyes, "Cause they're both boinking her."

"Ah," Dany nods, then shakes her head at the strange behaviors of the rich and turns around, leaning against the balcony railing, "So, we have more than a hundred Harpies to worry about, and we have no way of finding them."

"Oh I didn't say that," Daario tells her with a smile, "Grasso was able to point me in the direction of the goldsmiths who make the masks. I've got some of my men in plain clothes watching the shops and writing down names."

"Impressive," Barristan nods, the younger man finally starting to grow on him.

Daario nods in thanks, then continues, "He has also named six safe houses, and much like the goldsmiths, I have men watching them."

"Plus, if all else fails, we have the dragons," Marian points out, then she points an accusatory finger at Dany, "Speaking of, you need to visit your boys soon."

"I do," Dany agrees, rolling her shoulders and sighing, "Unfortunately, we have something of a rebellion to deal with."

"Well once you've got a few Harpies come to the arena," Marian suggests, "I'm sure the boys would love the chance to snack.

Dany snorts, but nods, "I'll be sure to do that."


	24. Unwanted Information

**The Dragon and the Hawke 24**

"Your brother was a gentle man," Barristan smiles as he thinks of his old friend Rhaegar, "He would travel through the streets of King's Landing, find a good spot, and sing like a common minstrel. He like to see how much money he could make, had a hat and everything."

"Did he make much?" Dany asks, trying to picture the brother she had never met

"Absolutely," The old knight nods, "Prince Rhaegar had a beautiful voice, and he would make more than most in a good afternoon."

"What did you do with the money?" Dany asks, wondering what a man who did not want for anything would do with money from singing

"Sometimes we would pass it on, sometimes we would donate it," Barristan laughed, "And sometimes we just got drunk with it."

"He sounds like a good man," Dany's smile is wistful, a wishing one that regretted days never to come and faces never to see.

"One of the best," Barristan nods, "Not without his faults, but a good one nonetheless."

"His faults?"

"Well, not to speak ill of the dead, but much like your father, he was touched with the madness that can infect your family," Barristan sighed

"What did he do?" Dany asked, fearful

"Well for one, he stole Lyanna Stark, which was one of the inciting incidents for Robert Baratheon's rebellion," Barristan twitched his fingers, then also added, "And he was a believer in the veracity of dreams."

"What?"

"He told me once that his dreams were visions of things to come," Barristan tells her, "That he always did as he did because he felt that the future he made was the better of the choices."

"Even taking the Stark girl after he was married?"

"Oh, the married issue is never as large a one as most believe," Barristan rolls his eyes, "Ellia Martell was a lovely woman, and a loving one, but she was Dornish as they come."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that she shared Lyanna Stark's bed as often as your brother did," Barristan tells her with a smirk, "I should know, I had to stand outside the door often enough."

Dany shudders at the thought of her brother and sex in the same sentence. Even if he had never met the man, she had never been a fan of the Targaryen Incest deal that Viserys always crowed about. She did not want her then still living brother anywhere near her, and so the very thought of what her family did repulsed her to such a grand extent.

"I did not need to hear that," Dany shakes her head as Barristan laughs

"It feels good to finally get him back for all the grief he put me through," The old knight smiles again

Before more can be said, Daario enters the room with Marian. Dany and Barristan stand and look to him. The Guard Captain bows his head, "Your grace, Ser Selmy, the day's first supplicants are here."

Dany nods, and steps past Daario. Before she exits the room she turns back, "Ser Barristan."

"Your grace?"

"Take the day off, please. Bring some music to the city."

"It will be my pleasure, your grace," Barristan smiles, bowing his head.

The queen then sweeps from the room, Daario trailing her. Marian falls in step with Barristan instead of her friend as the old knight leaves, "What did Dany mean?"

"I was telling her of my days in King's Landing with her brother, Prince Rhaegar," Barristan tells her, "He would often journey into the city and sing on street corners for the people's enjoyment."

"Oh, hey! That sounds way more fun than listening to people moan about random stuff they want Dany to fix for them! Can I come?"

Barristan smirks, "Could I stop you?"

"Not at all, but I'd like you to say yes anyway," Marian's return smile is sweet, bright, and mischievous.

Barristan chuckles, and nods, "Very well, you can juggle while I sing."

"Yes!" Marian pumps her fist as they set off down the pyramid and out into the city.

While the old knight and the new god walked out into the city of Meereen for a fun afternoon of juggling, singing, and entertaining, Dany was stuck sitting in her throne. The seat of her power wasn't so bad, really, as it now had cushions and a back so that she could actually relax while sitting in it. But the tedious thing was that she had to listen to a lot of nonsense from a lot of people.

It wasn't that she didn't care about her people, or thought that there problems were anything to laugh at; she just thought that two people arguing over who had rights to the pups of a dog was an issue that the new city guard should deal with, not her. In point of fact, she had begun shunting those supplicants over to Daario some time in the last week, and on the whole, she had received far less of them begging for her time as a result.

Her lover hadn't been very grateful, but that was very easily fixed after only the first night, and after that they had set up a reward system for the former mercenary. After all, even retired mercenaries had a love of reimbursement. It didn't hurt that what he wanted in exchange she was more than willing to give.

But!

The details of her sex life could wait until later, and Dany took a breath and nodded for the guards to let in her first supplicant. She was surprised to see that it was Hizdahr that was her first visitor of the day. Her advisor stepped to the lowest platform, and bowed low, giving a respectful, "Your grace."

"Hizdahr, what brings you to my throne room this afternoon?" She asks

"I have come to beg for the reopening of the fighting pits," Hizdahr tells her

She blinks at this, and leans forward, "You would have me reinstate one of the darkest symbols of the former oppression of Slaver's Bay?"

"No, your grace," Hizdahr shakes his head, "I beg you to reopen one of the few activities that brought both the slaves and the masters together before your rule, and now might bring them together again."

Dany leaned back in her throne, raising an eyebrow. She was very grateful for Marian teaching her the power of such simple gestures. The mage had told her that there were so many activities that went on in the face that could tell people so much. One of the most important lessons she taught was the art of the raised eyebrow.

Raising an eyebrow told a great deal about what you were thinking, but also nothing at all. It told the speaker that you were listening, but not much else. The beauty of the raised eyebrow was in the many mixed messages contained within; you could be asking for more information, daring them to continue, or showing that you know all of their arguments already but you want to hear them say what they meant to say anyway. Though only a few examples Marian had mentioned, she had assured Dany that there were many other things in an eyebrow raise, and as a Queen, it could be her greatest weapon when she didn't actually want anyone dead.

Hizdahr took the eyebrow to mean that she wanted to know more, but that he should watch his tongue lest it be removed. That last one was a consequence of growing up amongst bloodthirsty slavers, but it did help him make his point as politely as possible, "Your grace, when the fighting pits were open, they attracted the slaves and the slave masters alike in mutual entertainment. Men could fight and die and earn more than they could outside the walls of the arena. They could earn freedom."

"I have already given them freedom," Dany challenged, "What more is there to win?"

"Glory, adoration, money, what they win does not matter," Hizdahr tells her, "What matters is that the fights could bring together the city once more. I will not claim that it would repair the damage, but it would be a step to mending it."

"And does your family hold substantial holdings in the Fighting Pits, Hizdahr?"

"Yes, your grace," Hizdahr admits, "But I would gladly surrender my family's holdings in the arena to bring this about."

"Do you have that authority in your house?" Dany asks, thinking of the man's father, still very much alive, and very much a bitter grump at Dany taking over the city.

"Since your ascension, my father has declared me head of my household," Hizdahr tells her, "Believing that you would be less likely to strike against a member of your council."

"And what do you believe?"

"That should I prove unreliable, you would dismiss me with respect and find another man to represent the former masters."

Dany nods, "A wise perspective, and do you believe that opening the fighting pits would truly be helping your remain reliable?"

"I do, your grace," Hizdahr nods, head bowing.

"I will think on it, and you will have your answer by the next meeting of the council," Dany tells him.


	25. Party Poopers

**The Dragon and the Hawke 25**

It took a while to find a good corner for Marian and Barristan. When they had set out, they had started to talk about the best kinds of street performances that they had seen. Tales passed between the pair, as they recounted various encounters from their old cities. In the end, something that they realized was that location mattered a great deal.

They had to find a spot that received a lot of through traffic, but wouldn't clog if people stopped to watch them perform. They also needed to keep away from other performers, as stealing commerce wasn't the point of this exercise. They were meant to bring a tiny bit of joy to their little corner of the world, and so by the end of their second hour wandering through the city, they stopped in a circle with a fountain.

Barristan sat down on the edge of the fountain while Marian conjured three balls of flame that she started juggling. People began to slow, looking at the display with a mix of awe and curiosity. Some slowed, some moved on, and the majority enjoyed the small display of power that the local god was displaying.

After a while, Marian and Barristan traded off, and the old knight started to sing some old songs he knew from back home. People recognized the queensguard, and though they were confused and surprised by his presence and fairly decent singing voice, they did enjoy themselves as they moved past.

The day was whittled away in this manner, the old man and young mage trading off entertaining the people that stopped to give them a chance. It took a while for them to remember the hat trick, but eventually people were setting coins in the helmet that Barristan had not worn even one day of his term in office.

The helmet, a stylized rendition of a dragon, was part of the suit of armor that he was adorned in, yet another agreed upon suggestion from the combined might of Mossador and Hizdahr. It was looser than his old armor had been when he had been a goldcloak, but it felt just as effective.

But the status of his armor was not important, having the helmet on hand was. He smiled, watching men and women throw coins into the helm as Marian put on a show for them in the streets. At the moment, she was not doing magic, but instead telling a grand tale about her cousin, and how he had saved an entire nation with his friends from monsters. Children were 'wowing,' parents were smiling, and people were enjoying themselves as the day whittled on.

And then there was a scream from the back of the crowd that had grown up around them.

Barristan was on his feet in an instant, and Marian brought an end to her story to look in the direction of the scream. Both see people running towards them, panicked citizens that ran around the pair in the hopes that they would be protected.

It took less than two minutes for the area between Marian and Barristan and the source of the scream to clear. And standing across the circle are the Sons of the Harpy, dozens of them. The golden masked men stood in utter silence as they glared at the pair, and the pair in turn glared at them.

And then there was an inarticulate scream of rage, and the Harpies charged. They drew knives, hammers, sickles, and anything else that could be counted as a weapon as they ran at the heathen goddess and the queensguard.

Before the first reached them, he was already dead. A hole, punched clean through his chest from a stone accelerated past the speed of sound tore his heart out. The Sons slowed from the sudden death, and then Barristan was upon them.

Many things could be said about Barristan the Bold, but being out of practice was not one of them. Almost casual, the old man strode into battle against the Harpies, his sword striking like a flash of lighting, taking a Harpy in the throat before he turns his sword to the side to block a swing from a knife. His free arm came up and took the man by the mask and dragged him in front of the strike of a hammer, and the man's back was broken.

As Barristan proved why he was the best swordsman still alive, Marian was proving why she had never fallen in her own right. Even without her staff, the mage was a monster with magic. A flick of her hand set a man alight, another encased a Harpy in a stone tomb that slowly crushed him. A twitch of her head had three of the Harpies turning their blades on their allies. Around her was a forest of death that took more than it would ever give.

It was a bloodbath, a slaughter, and there was no mercy for the Harpies as Marian tore from them their lives. With each death, it seemed to the people watching, that her power grew. Her magic seemed to drink the lifeblood of her slain enemies. There were red glows, flowing energies, and in the center was the Thunder God.

The Harpies, for their part, began to circle the pair after the first fifteen men had been slain with such terrible ease. Rather than charge in like fools, they instead hunted for openings, and they attacked in pairs from opposite sides.

Their tactics were smart, and had they been facing anyone else, they may have worked better. Unfortunately, they were facing Barristan the bold, and the man had fought in wars where men were pressed so close together there was hardly room to swing a sword, and where death could come from any direction. He had learnt many lessons in his time as a soldier and a knight, and the most important had always been to keep his head on a swivel.

With this, he was always aware of who was charging him, and he was always prepared. His moves were precise, and never did he leave his back to anyone but Marian. He would catch his first attacker, then pivot so that his second and first were both in his line of sight. After that, dispatching them took less than a pair of seconds.

Marian, for her part, didn't have to worry about keeping her head on a swivel, she could read minds. She knew who was planning on charging her before they even set their first foot forward, and as a result, those that contemplated attacking her were on the receiving end of death by angered mage.

The crowd of terrified civilians watched with awe, horror, and excitement as the Sons of the Harpy were slowly reduced to a handful of men. They watched the goddess and the queensguard slay those that would put them back in chains, and after their fears vanished in the slaughter, they cheered. Every new Harpy that fell to the ground with a gurgle of his own blood elicited a great cry of approval from the people of Meereen.

For weeks, the people had lived in an unacknowledged state of fear of the faceless terrorists who wore the golden masks, but now their god was proving that they had no need to be afraid. They had wondered about the purpose of the show that Barristan and Marian had put on, but now they knew. They were to celebrate in the face of fear, to know with certainty that no matter how dark the day became, there was meant to be joy.

With each second, and each new zealot that was born to believe in the power that Marian held, the woman found calling forth the forces of magic to help her easier. The Fade was not something that many took the time to observe, or to acknowledge. It had always been a place that the Chantry preached the evils of. And people believed the Chantry, so nobody really knew anything about the Fade, at least, nobody that Marian knew.

As a consequence, the benefits of belief had never really been studied. Marian had never thought too hard about how she grew in power at a near constant level while she had been in Kirkwall, and because she had never noticed that, she did not notice that something very similar was happening here in Meereen. People had always believed in the Champion of Kirkwall, and her accumulated legend grew with people's knowledge and belief. The same was happening in Meereen, but also in Yunkai and Astapor; it could even be said that her power was believed as far off as Westeros.

Without any other beings to feed from the Fade in Essos and Westeros, all of that accumulated belief was flowing into the only available conduit. As a result, when Marian sent a bolt of lightning at the last of the Sons of the Harpy, there was the sound of Thunder, and the man exploded from the energy being passed through his body.

Marian blinks, then looks down at her finger with a contemplative frown. It is at this moment that Marian could have started to think about the nature of her power and her status as a divinity. But she would not be Marian Hawke if she actually started thinking about her own nature. Instead, she looks at Barristan, bathed in blood, and asks, him, "You wanna get some pie? I don't know why, but I've really got a hankering for pie right now."

Barristan simply blinks at her, trying to think of an answer, as the city guard rush into the circle, five minutes late.


	26. Targaryen Rage

**The Dragon and the Hawke 26**

Daenerys Stormborn was not pleased.

It had taken her only a few minutes to come to this conclusion, and a few more to realize that along with not being pleased, she was rather angry. Livid, was a good word to describe her current emotional state.

And the reason for this current state of anger was standing before her. Marain smiled back at her impetuously. Dany decided that she had to make her feelings known, "I am not happy."

"I know, you've said that like six times now," Marian agrees, taking a bite of one of the near infinite number of apples she somehow always seems to carry with her.

The reason for the queen's anger was the simple fact that she had been stuck in her rooms until she cooled down. How this came to be had a lot to do with the fact that she decided she wanted to feed all of the noble lords of Meereen to her children for the simple fact that the Sons of the Harpy had dared to try and take two of the people most precious to her, from her.

Barristan, Marian, Missandei, and even Daario had all shared looks, and in an instant the queen was over the guard captain's shoulders and in her rooms. She'd then experienced several very enjoyable hours that had taken her mind off of the attempt on Marian and Barristan's lives. But that soon ended, and when she was out of her satisfied glow she was ordering Daario to collect the former Great Masters and heads of noble families.

Daario had smiled at her in a pained manner and left the room. She had not thought much on his expression, and only realized that her orders weren't being followed when Marian had entered the room and explained the situation to her.

It had then taken two hours for her to get to mentioning that she was not happy for the sixth time. After that, she finally decided to ask, "Why are you stopping me? They tried to kill you!"

"Lots of people try to kill me," is the reply, accompanied by a shrug and another bite, "And none of them have ever succeeded."

"They could have gotten lucky."

"Nah, I've got an amulet of luck," Marian tells her

Dany gives her a flat look, "You've said so in the past, and I don't see how that would help now any more than it did then."

"It always helps!" Marian squawks indignantly, "I made this thing myself! Put the magic in and everything! Are you saying you don't trust the superior magical talent of yours truly?"

Dany sighs, leaning her head back against her chair and then changes the subject, "Very well, you were in no danger, they still made the attempt!"

"Yeah, but ambushes in crowded streets are something I'm used to."

"That doesn't make it better!"

"Okay, fair enough, but I'm telling you, it's fine! I'm fine, Barristan's fine, you're angry at the wrong people and so we're stopping you from making the wrong decision here," Marian points at her with her apple, "As much as we want, as much as we hate them, we can't kill them without proof."

"We have proof!" Dany snarls, "They went after you and Barristan!"

"And me and Barristan were painting a target on our backs!" Marian tells her, "For hours! We could have caught their attention at any time. Just because we weren't at court today doesn't mean that it was one of the nobles at court that sold us out. Hell, that might actually be a point in their favor."

"What do you mean?" Dany asks

"Well they never saw us leave, so they had no idea we were out on the town, so how could they tell anyone to target us? We could have been elsewhere in the pyramid, or anywhere!"

Dany sinks in her chair, frowning. She drums her fingers on her leg as she thinks, and then after a moment she nods, "Fine, I'll believe you, and your theory, for now."

Marian claps her hands together happily and bows them, "Thank you! Your confidence in my intelligence is inspiring!"

She then takes a bite of her apple and starts skipping out of the room, "I'll call a council meeting!"

Dany nods, not caring if it's seen or not, and stays in her chair, thinking. Her thoughts rage around her head, and she cannot quite keep a stern grasp of one or another for long. The one thought that keeps flying through her head looks like her brother, and it looks like him and her merging into a single person.

Her shudder of disgust cannot be held back, and it is when he nails dig into her knee that she realizes what her own thoughts are trying to tell her, killing the masters was something that Viserys would have done, or her father before him.

She was meant to be better than both men, and she had almost fallen to their level. She did not like that, but from what Barristan had told her not a day ago, her family was plagued with madness, even her. She would have to fight against the pull of it for the rest of her days, no doubt. But she would not become like her brother.

It takes her five minutes to calm down fully, and when she stands to join the council, everyone had arrived and was waiting patiently for her to start the meeting. She slides into her seat and looks at Hizdahr, the man gazing back at her impassively.

Finally, she speaks, "I agree with your request, Hizdahr, we will reopen the fighting pits."

Mossador is the first to react to this news, and stands, shouting an incredulous and enraged, "What!?"

Dany raises a hand to calm him, "It will not run as it had in the past. Daario, as a former fighter himself, will help come up with a new system that reflects my new empire. If there is even a hint that the slave masters are trying to bring back what i have destroyed, they will find themselves in the arena with any man who wants to have a piece of them, and they will not be allowed a champion, as is the custom in Westeros."

Mossador, closes his mouth, narrows his eyes, then turns to Hizdahr, "Your family owns much in the arena."

"And i have volunteered to gift my holdings to the queen," Hizdahr tells him, "My wish is to see Meereen united, and I feel that the arena has always been something we all enjoyed."

It is clear that Mossador wants to disagree, wants with all his heart to tell the queen that Hizdahr is full of shit, but he cannot. He sits back in his chair, and nods.

"Did you enjoy the fights when you were still a slave?" Dany asks gently, having watched the internal war play across Mossador's face, much like her own must have

The former slave simply nods glumly, then also adds, "It was the only time myself and my master agreed on anything."

Dany nods, and she once places her faith in the fact that everything that Mossador and Hizdahr had agreed on up until this point had worked out for the better. Turning to Daario and Barristan, she starts a new subject, "How goes the hunt for the Sons of the Harpy? Especially after today."

"Today?" Hizdahr asks, "Something happened?"

"Me and Barristan got attacked in the streets," Marian tells him

"My gods, are you alright?" He asks in alarm

"Yeah, we're fine," Marian smile, "Nothing some time with Missandei couldn't fix at least."

Hizdahr blinks and his eyebrows rise as he turns his attention to Missandei, "I was unaware that you were well practiced in the healing arts?"

Missandei blushes, and Marian snorts. Then Hizdahr gets it, and his mouth pops open in a silent 'oh' of understanding. Daario snorts, and Dany smiles as she comes to the conclusion that Hizdahr probably had nothing to do with the attack.

The council meeting lasts another hour, with things like taxes and tariffs being the main source of discussion, but there is a certain sense of accomplishment as Mossador and Hizdahr leave the chamber. The pair are used to being the only two to leave; they may be advisors, but they aren't friends as the rest of them are.

"So, calmed down?" Marian asks, smirking as she bites an apple

"I have," Dany nods, sighing, "I have also thought about how close I came to being as bad as my brother, or my father."

"Your grace," Barristan steps over to her, and with a kind smile he lays a hand on her shoulder, "You are a far way away from being your father, and I am so very proud of you for that."

Dany smiles up at the old knight. Not since William Darry had died had she felt like she had anything close to a father, and now she had Barristan, and she was happy. She was happy to have friends as good as those she did.

She even, to some degree, was glad to have Jorah, terrible traitor though he was.


	27. Turning away

**The Dragon and the Hawke 27**

The arena and the pits would not be ready for weeks, and that was if Daario and Hizdahr managed to actually come up with a system in less than three or four days. Any more than that, and it would be months before the arena would be ready to see combat.

Well actually, the arena wasn't the problem. As big as the Dragons were, and as destructive as they could be, they took care of their nest. The arena had been their nest for close to a year, and so the argument could be made that it was in better condition than it had been before the city had been claimed.

But the goings on in the city of Meereen were not the important events at the moment. In fact, aside from a rather ironic death involving a butcher, a bull, and a leg of sausage, nothing really of note was going to happen in the city for weeks. The Sons of the Harpy were naturally causing problems, but Daario's guard was a competent force, and most trouble they tried to make ended with them running away as fast as they could.

And so the story moves from the great hurricane of nature that is Marian Hawke and all the people she has direct access to, and instead moves a few hundred miles outside the city, to a fat spy and a drinking dwarf.

"I do wish you would slow yourself," Varys notes as he watches Tyrion Lannister down his sixth goblet of wine of the afternoon.

"Why? We are still two days ride from reaching this queen you're so eager to hand me to, I can sober up by then," the dwarf twitches his face and pours himself another goblet.

"It is more that I was hoping to tell you what I know, and I cannot do that if you are too drunk to remember the conversation after we are done."

Tyrion snorts, "It will take more than this watered down swill to put me in the black, my friend."

"Then do you think you could listen?"

"I have been listening," Tyrion tells him, "And so far all you've done is ask me to slow down."

He then takes a small sip of his wine and smiles, "So this is me, slowing down. Tell me what you want me to know."

"Well to start, it seems that your father's belief that the queen's council could be broken with news of Jorah Mormont's old loyalties were mistaken. Rather than execution or banishment, he now rules Yunkai in the name of the Queen."

Tyrion nods, "A wise decision. Old mistakes shape men, but they do not define them. If it was clear that Mormont was loyal to the Queen, but she felt she could not see him, it makes sense that he would be sent far from sight but remain useful."

"Indeed. In other news it seems that the city of Meereen is experiencing some form of armed revolt."

"What? Like what my dear sister is handling back in King's Landing?"

"Exactly," Varys nods, then smiles slyly, "Only it seems that Queen Daenerys is dealing with the revolt in her city far more effectively than the Queen Regent."

"And who does she have to thank for that?" Tyrion asks, remembering the few details he had managed to learn of the queen, "From what I recall of your reports, she did not have the knowledge necessary to route something like that."

"Correct, she does not have that knowledge, instead she has Daario Naharis, former lieutenant of the Second Sons mercenary band, who now serve as the city's guard force, and Marian Hawke, by all accounts a god in human flesh."

"Really?" Tyrion straightens, "From your old reports I thought she was just some mad practitioner of the lost arts?"

"It seems I was mistaken," Varys concedes, "Very much so, for apparently this woman wields the powers of the elements like no other is able, tame dragons, speak counsel to a queen, and dance like a drunken loon through a city as she slaughters her way to its ruling body."

Tyrion blinks, and after a second, adds, "I think I'm going to need an explanation for that last bit."

"She apparently danced through the streets of Yunkai on her way to confront their Wise Masters," Varys tells him, "And she killed all but one, who now acts as advisor to Jorah Mormont."

Tyrion sips his wine, "Well, it seems the trend of violent gods continues. Fantastic."

"Actually, it may not be as bad as you think," Varys reassures him

"How could it not be as bad as I think?" Tyrion raises an eyebrow at his friend

"It seems this violent hatred that our burgeoning goddess experiences lies solely for the Masters," Varys tells him, "And even with everything we are, we are not slave masters and never will be."

"And aside from that, she is a pleasant god?"

"Far more pleasant than most. When last I received word from one of my little birds, I learnt that she and Ser Barristan of all people had walked into the city and put on a show like common street performers."

Tyrion's eyes fly up, then lower as he frowns, then he smiles, "Well, unless she enjoys tits and wine, I'll abstain my approval until I see her for myself."

"Well I don't know about wine, but I have heard that she does enjoy the company of her own sex," Varys tells him, timing his statement so that Tyrion is taking a sip just as he gets to the good part.

Tyrion spits the wine out, splattering it against the wagon door, then turns his eyes to Varys, "You're joking?"

"I am not."

"hm, would you look at that, a god I would get behind."

"Hopefully not literally, I hear that her lover can be quite powerful in her own right."

"In what way?" Tyrion wonders if there were actually two goddesses, rather than one, that he would have to be careful not to antagonize to the point of killing him

"It is said that she can lay men low with but a few choice words," Varys tells her, "Almost like you, actually, except she is apparently kinder about it."

Tyrion smiles, and there is yet another woman that he would love to make the acquaintance of. Though he would definitely have to be careful with his words, no need to make someone who can take a city alone an enemy.

Moving a hundred miles back to the city, the two women that are being discussed are laying in bed, talking. The subject that arises now comes from Marian as she tells her lover, "We need some new people to talk to."

"We have plenty of people to talk to," Missandei lifts her head to look into Marian's face

"Yeah, but we always talk about the same stuff," The mage turned god complains, "We all have the same stuff we experience, so we always end up repeating conversations. I'd like to get someone new that we could share an intelligent conversation with."

"We have intelligent conversations all the time," Missandei notes, an eyebrow rising in challenge

Marian chuckles and kisses her, "Yeah, we do, but I can only take so many existential debates."

"We do not have many of those, though."

"We have them all the time. We just have them after we run out of other stuff to talk about."

"We could always make something to talk about," Missandei suggests.

Marian shifts and looks down at her love, "What do you suggest?"

"Ser Barristan recently brought up the subject of marriage," Missandei remind her

"Yeah, between Dany and whoever manages to catch her fancy that she can use politically," Marian rolls her eyes, "Not a very fun subject, really. But if you want, we can talk about Dany's nuptials."

"It is not Queen Daenerys's nuptials that interest me," Missandei tells her, "It is ours."

Marian blinks, then looks into Missandei's eyes, then blinks again, then asks, "Did you just ask me to marry you?"

Missandei smirks, "I did."

The mage smiles widely and pulls her up to kiss her heavily, "Sneaky girl."

"Well?"

"You expect me to say no?"

"I expect you to say yes."

"Well then, yes, Missandei, I will marry you."

"Good, our wedding is tomorrow."

"It is?" Marian blinks at that

"Of course," Missandei nods, then narrows her eyes and tells her lover with certainty, "You will be mine for all eternity, and nothing you can say will dissuade me."

"Yes Ma'am!" Marian agrees with a sharp nod of her head.


	28. Assassins Talk

**The Dragon and the Hawke 28**

The wedding may have been a surprise for Marian, but it seemed that it had been planned for close to an entire month before she had even been asked. Missandei had gotten Dany to officiate, Trod Underfoot to act as Best Man, Barristan Selmy to act as her 'Father,' and Grey Worm to play the instruments.

It really was surprising how good the Unsullied Commander had become at the fields of entertainment. Ever since Marian had shown him to juggle before the conquering of Yunkai, Grey Worm had been obsessed with the modes of escapism present in the theatrical arts. So far he had not found a single one that he did not enjoy, or do at least passably well in.

He had even learnt the traditional wedding song of Westeros, where slavery had been illegal for entire lifetimes, and was playing it as Missandei walked down the aisle in the biggest house of worship that Meereen had. Marian did not know that it was a temple devoted to her, and any evidence that pointed at that she determinedly ignored in favor of staring at her bride.

Missandei was garbed in one of her usual dresses that wrapped around her breasts and exposed a great deal of stomach, but in a pure white that did amazing things to her coloring. The center piece of her outfit was a beautiful medalion that the mage had made for her months ago, when they had first began to share a bed. Marian smiled wide as her soon to be wife reached her, and received a grand smile in return.

Dany began to speak, but Marian barely heard her, eyes raking over every line of Missandei's face. The two stared at one another, eyes locking every so often as they traced over the rest of their figures, and finally they heard Dany say, "This ceremony shall be done in a way that Marian has chosen. Will the partners of this matrimony clasp their hands?"

Marian and Missandei do so, and Daario Naharis steps up, and twines a length of white silk line across their hands and arms, tying them together. Marian looks down at the silk, and raises Missandei's hands to kiss them as Dany again starts to talk. There is a general 'awe' at the display, and then they kissed for real.

As the two women locked lips at the front of the temple, at the very back, Varys and Tyrion Lannister watched with interest. If it were not for the fact that half of Meereen had shoved themselves into the temple to watch the ceremony, their presence may have attracted unwanted attention.

"A beautiful ceremony," Varys notes with a small smile

Tyrion, who had been forced to go without a goblet of wine, shrugs and looked around with the perceptiveness of a man who had two eyes open while drunk and now seemed to have nearly tripple that. He sighed, "It was, but it seems that it will soon be at an end."

Varys looks down at his small companion, and then follows the dwarf's pointing fingers to a man hidden high, near an opening at the top of the wall. He wore a golden mask, and carried a bow. Varys's eyes widen and he turns his gaze to where the assassin is aiming, and it seems to be the three women at the front.

He thinks quickly, tries to think if he should shout, when Tyrion beats him to it, "Assassin!"

Eyes fly in his direction, including the assassin's. Seeing he has been made, he lets fly.

There are many ways that this could have ended. It could have ended with the death of Daenerys Targaryen, or could have ended in the death of Missandei, and both would have ended in the destruction of Meereen in the Thunder God's anger. But it did neither of those things. Instead, the arrow struck through the heart of Marian Hawke.

There is a hushed silence as the assassin laughs in triumph, seeing the god struck after having leapt in front of the other women. And arrow from one of Daario's men quickly ends the laughing, and his life, but the damage is already done.

Marian falls to her knees, looking down at the arrow stuck through her chest. She stares at it, uncomprehending. There is an arrow in her chest, some confusion is to be expected.

What is not expected is the lack of pain, or blood. There should be blood for a wound like an arrow to the heart. There should be a lot of blood. Instead, there wasn't any. She could see the pale skin of her breast and the arrow stuck in it, and she had seen a lot of arrow wounds while in Kirkwall, there was always blood around the entry, and a lot around the exit. Instead, there is nothing but shock that somebody had managed to almost shoot Missandei or Dany.

Wait.

Somebody had almost shot Missandei.

Marian's eyes open, glowing an electric blue as she surges to her feet and her sight locks on the assassin, his corpse seeming to slowly fall to the ground. Without even one of her usual gestures, the man's fall is stopped, and he is dragged through the air towards her.

The people of Meereen watch in terrified awe as the corpse is dragged to the angry god, and in the far back, a believer is made of Tyrion Lannister, who in his shock ends up making the gesture that would be later associated with Marian Hawke the Thunder God, a splayed hand on the chest. Even closer to Marian, Missandei steps to her wife, and with horror runs her hand over the arrow wound sticking out of her back, and she knew with certainty that it had been meant for her.

The corpse reaches Marian, and then it jerks awake. The assassin, torn from the ether, looks around in terror. He sees the god he had not believed in glaring at him, "You shot me."

Compelled to speak, the assassin agrees, "I did, I enjoyed doing it."

"Who was the target?"

"Any of you three foreign whores."

The casual nature with which her responds to Marian's questions horrifies most, but not the mage, and she asks, "Were you hired?"

"I was."

"Who hired you?"

"Drazik zo Loraq."

"Did Hizdahr zo Loraq know?"

"Hizdahr zo Loraq is a weak willed simpleton who encourages peace rather than taking our rightful places as masters over the cattle that crowd this city."

"Did he know?"

"No."

"Am I cattle?"

"You are God."

Marian huffs, and the corpse dissolves in a cloud of ash.

The silence that follows is terrible. Nobody speaks, nobody breaths, nobody even moves. But then it is broken when Marian asks, "Hey, who shouted about the assassin?"

There is a collective turn, and an avenue is opened to reveal Tyrion standing next to Varys. The Dwarf blinks, then waves, "I did."

Marian smiles, and in that strange way that she has, diffuses the tension from the temple with it. She waves him forward, and watches as he and Varys make their way through the crowd until they stand before them.

Tyrion and Varys exchange glances as Marian looks between them, not sure if they should speak. They do not have long to wait before their course of action is given, as Marian extends her left hand, "Marian Hawke, nice to meet you!"

Tyrion smiles, noticing that the woman's right hand is still twined with her wife's, and extends his own left. They shake each other's hands and he introduces himself, "Tyrion Lannister. You still have an arrow in your chest."

Marian blinks, and looks down. She frowns, "You know, I forgot about that."

She looks back up at Tyrion and tells him, "I don't think people should be able to forget if they have sharp objects stuck in their chests."

"Well then, you are clearly better than people," Tyrion points out

Marian furrows her brow, then shrugs and lets of Tyrion's hand to grab the arrow. Everyone watches is fascinated horror as she pulls the arrow from her chest. After it is all the way out, she notes, "It's weird, I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt."

"Well count yourself lucky," Tyrion tells her, then indicates a terrible scar across his face, "I have first hand knowledge of wounds, and they are far from enjoyable."

"True enough," Marian laughs, then she perks up, and pulls Missandei towards her, her wife slides easily into her arms and she tells Tyrion, "Tryion Lannister, allow me to introduce my beautiful wife, Missandei Hawke."

"A pleasure, my lady," Tyrion gives a respectful bow, and then to Dany, who had stepped around Marian on the other side, he bows even lower and greets, "Your Grace."

"Do you two know each other?" Marian asks

"Close enough," Tyrion tells her, "My father tried to see both of us dead at one point or another."

Marian blinks, "Wow, your dad must suck."

"He did," Tyrion nods, frowning. He then shakes his head and smiles, "But I did see to return the favor."

"You killed your dad?"

"In the privy," Tyrion smirks

"Oh dear," Barristan Selmy notes with some amusement, knowing how much it would have rankled Tywin Lannister as he died, to be killed in such an undignified manner.

"It seems, Tyrion Lannister, that we have much to speak about," Dany notes, here eyes far from narrowed, but her tone far from friendly.

"Of course, your grace," Tyrion nods

"You guys can talk," Marian assures them, then she raises her and Missandei's hands and declares, "After the party!"

There is a cheer from the crowd


	29. Tyrion Lannister

**The Dragon and the Hawke 29**

Daenerys Stormborn and Tyrion Lannister sit across from each other, eyes locking every so often as they thought of what they might say. In their attempt to start conversation, they had already finished a bottle of wine and were halfway through their second.

Out the window, the sounds of the celebration were flying in, and it was clear that everyone was in a terrific mood. As well as locking eyes, both occasionally looking in the direction of the revels and silently wished that they could be there instead of here.

Finally, after the last drop of wine is poured from the second bottle and into Tyrion's cup, Dany sets her own on the table, "You slew your father?"

Tyrion, having not expected her or him to gather up the courage to speak for at least two more bottles, slowly set the now empty second down and nods, "I did."

"Why?"

The dwarf frowns, leans back, sips his wine, and then he tells her, "Many reasons, I could list them, but they are painful. I would appreciate it if you did not ask."

Dany narrows her eyes, gazing into his own, but can see only a sincere request in the small man's eyes. But she needs to ask, so she asks, "Name the least of his offences, then."

"He was going to have me executed for a crime he knew I did not commit."

"That is the least of his offenses against you?" Now Dany's eyes are wide in horror at the thought of a father being so cavalere with his child's life. She had never known her own, but she had experienced paternity from William Darry and Barristan Selmy, and she could not truly comprehend terrible parenting.

But she did know that it existed. Daario had told her how he became a slave, so she knew that there were despicable parents around, but somehow she had distanced herself from that knowledge. It stirred something in her, hearing how Tywin Lannister treated her son.

Motherly instinct is dangerous, there have been cases of mothers doing incredible and terrible things for the sake of her children. Dany was no exception, after all; she had buried Xaro and Doreah. Seeing a child, though really Tyrion could hardly be counted as a child, treated so cruelly, stirred those same instincts in her as had been stirred when she buried her husband and dearest friend. She actually had to mentally slap herself to stop thinking of the dwarf in such a manner, as the man was currently downing his entire goblet of wine.

Tyrion had not done anything in reply to the queen, except finish his drink and reach for the third bottle of wine for a refill. He is surprised when it is pushed closer by the queen, and stops reaching to look at her.

Again, she asks, "That is the least of his offenses against you?"

"Not even close to the top of the list," Tyrion mutters, taking the bottle and pouring it into his goblet, "If that were the least of it, I would probably have just fled when i had the chance."

"So you deliberately went to kill your father?"

"I did not know it was my intention," Tyrion tells her, nearly going to drink from his cup, but he sets it on the table, runs his fingers through his beard, and then tells her, "I went to his chambers to confront him, and found my whore in his bed, begging for him to return. I… I killed her in a fit of rage, and then I took up his crossbow, and killed him with it for that last offense."

Dany furrows her brow, and shakes her head, "I will need more of an explanation, if you please."

Tyrion sighs, rubs his eyes, and then he tells her, "Explaining would touch on memories I would much rather leave buried."

"I must know," Dany tells him, sure that his story would turn her in one way or another in regards to her favor of him. Marian had always stressed the necessity of backstory; she always said that people came from somewhere, they were who they were, but they became that way through the decisions, mistakes, and trials they had faced in the past.

"Why?" Tyrion's question is a plaintive whisper.

"Because I know it will turn me in your favor," The queen admits. She can already tell that she likes the small man, but she cannot trust him yet. The story that he told her would sway her, she could feel it in her bones, and those feelings were never to be ignored, as Marian had put it. Of course, when she had spoken of that feeling, it was when she was telling Dany why she had melted all but one of the Wise Masters of Yunkai.

But some of Marian's lessons could be applied to different subjects, most of which have nothing to do with killing people, which seems to be the main context of the burgeoning goddess's advice.

Tyrion sighs, frowns, picks up his goblet, downs one cup, then a second, then he tells his story, "When i was a lad of about sixteen, my brother and I saved a girl from a trio of bandits. While my brother chased after them, I helped her up, dusted her off, and kept her entertained while we waited for my brother to return. When he did, we all went to Lannisport."

"We were wed in less than a week," He then tells her, a soft smile playing on his lips, "For two weeks we lived as husband and wife, and it was the happiest time in my life."

Dany smiles at this, but then Tyrion adds, "And then my father found out about my marriage from the drunk Septon that married us. Enraged that I would dare marry a commoner, he had his men grabs us both from our small cottage, and drag us into Casterly Rock's courtyard. He then had Jamie tell me that my wife was a whore he had paid to have sex with me."

Tyrion's face twists into a snarl of hatred and he snorts, "A lie, but one I believed."

He downs another two goblets before he can manage to continue, "My father had each of his men rape my wife, and each was to pay her a silver coin for her services. And then He made me do it."

Dany's eyes widen in horror at the image that Tyrion was painting for her. She had seen many things in her life, and until this moment, the children that the Masters of Meereen had strung up were the worst she had known. Now she had a close second.

"After I was done, my father had me pay her a gold dragon for all of her time, and then he sent her on her way," Tyrion tells her, "And for twenty years I knew that I could only be loved by whores, and whores only loved my gold."

He looks up at her, "And then my brother tells me that he lied, that Tysha was not a whore, and that she did not deserve the fate that Father gave her."

"So I killed him. I saw him with my whore, Shae, after everything he had done to me, told me, trained me to believe. And then I asked him where Tysha was, and he told me that she was wherever whores went, and I killed him for it."

Tyrion downs the last of the third bottle and smiles at her, "Are you happy with my reasons for killing my father?"

"No," Dany tells him, her voice far more even than she had expected it to be, "I am not happy, but I am satisfied."

"Good," Tyrion reaches for a fourth bottle, but Dany stops him

"I would like you sober for the rest of our conversation, if you please."

The dwarf sighs and nods, "Very well, what else is there to speak of?"

"Why have you come to me?"

"Varys," Tyrion tells her, "He smuggled me out of King's Landing, and when we crossed the Narrow Sea, he explained to me that there was a girl, one who I last I heard had been sold off to some horse lord at the other end of the earth, who now had three dragons, a god, and an empire. He also told me that she would give me the chance to do what I do best."

"And what is it that you do best?"

"I run kingdoms, your grace," Tyrion tells her, "For close on two years I was the acting Hand of the King for my nephew Joffrey, who was a mad little shit, and I ran the kingdom quite well despite all of his and my sister's attempts. I can only imagine what i could accomplish working with a Queen who actually cares for her people and her kingdom."

"So you wish to serve as one of my advisors?"

"If you would have me."

"And your friend? Varys?" Dany raises an eyebrow, "You do know that he has deprived me of one of my closest advisors and dearest friends?"

"I do, he told me as much," Tyrion nods, "But that simply proves his worth as a spymaster. With a single letter he removed Jorah Mormont from your direct service. I do not defend this action, but I have no doubt that it was my father who arranged it. Varys does not act without direction."

"He doesn't?" Dany asks, raising an eyebrow in challenge

"He doesn't act against people, I should say," Tyrion corrects himself, "He is always learning, and always plotting, but he will never make a move until someone else can give him a plan."

"Does that make him useful?"

"I believe it does, your grace," Tyrion tells her, "More useful at your side, than dead or dismissed."

"So you're suggesting that I take advantage of his service while he offering them?"

"I am," Tyrion nods, "In his own way, Varys cares for the realm, and you are as much a part of it as anyone else, and you are better for it than any of the survivors running Westeros at the moment."

"Are you suggesting I try and take them now?" Dany asks, raising an eyebrow

"I am saying that you are the best ruler I have seen in my entire lifetime," Tyrion tells her, "And Varys serves for the good of the realm, and you are what is good for the realm. Right now, the realm is your new empire, but the hope is that someday that realm will include Westeros."

They gaze at each other, and no longer do their eyes lock. Instead, they linger, until Dany nods in agreement.


	30. A Kiss and a Hit

**The Dragon and the Hawke 30**

"So there I am, patting my pockets and thinking 'Oh Fuck!' when there is this thwip! from behind me. I turn around, and there's this kid stuck to a wall by a crossbow bolt," Marian sips her drink as she tells her story, "Then from a dozen yards off there he comes, a dwarf with a clean face, an open jacket, and the swagger of a man who knew that all was right in the world. He steps up to the kid, tells him 'You don't have the skills to work in hightown. Try again some other time.' He holds out his hand, and the thief drops my gold into it. Then he pulls the arrow out of the kid's shoulder, knocks him out with a punch, and walks over to me and my brother like literally nothing had happened!"

"And this was how you met your best friend, as you call him?" Tyrion asks, fascinated

"Yep, Varric Tethras, second son of House Tethras," Marian nods, "Best dwarf I ever knew."

"Well hopefully I can take that place," Tyrion notes, a smirk playing on his lips as he sips his wine.

Marian shrugs, "Don't know if anyone can match Varric. Guy was the best storyteller you'll ever meet, one of the best rogues I know, and a cool hand at cards, too."

"Oh, you want stories?" Tyrion challenges

Marian smirks, "I do indeed!"

"Well then, let me tell you about the time I was put on trial for attempted murder!"

Marian raises an eyebrow, but extends her glass as Tyrion fills his own and then offers to do the same for her. The dwarf proceeds to wow her, and break her mind just a little bit.

Looking at the pair from a distance, Dany and Missandei sit at the other end of the Queen's chamber. The Queen sips slowly at her wine as she thinks on the nature of shifting loyalties, while Missandei simply revels in the fact that her wife is having a good evening.

Staring at the pair grows boring after a while though, and so Dany turns to her favorite assistant and asks, "How do you find married life?"

"Your grace?" Missandei blinks and turns her eyes to the queen, not having expected the question.

Dany smiles brittlely, thinking of Drogo, and repeats, "How do you find married life? It took me a long time to become accustomed to it myself, but I can only guess that it is pleasant for you."

"You are correct, your grace," Missandei nods, a look of worry running across her features at Dany's expression. She gently reaches out and runs a hand along the queen's arm in quiet commiseration.

Dany's smile shifts to a more pleasant one, and she rolls her eyes. Her head turns to Missandei and she tells her, "I am going to need a little more than that."

"I have only been married for an evening, your grace," Missandei reminds her

"I know," Dany nods, "It only took an evening for me to realize that my life would never be the same."

Missandei lowers her head and takes a sip of her wine, "Then if you wish for details; I was gifted with extraordinary dreams last night."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I recall it vividly," Missandei closes her eyes, "I was in a land of boundless fields, with a sky as green as grass and grass as blue as the sea. In the distance, there was a golden palace, possibly even a city, larger than any I had seen before. And closer than that, was Marian. She smiled at me, and told me that she had never been able to bring company before. We…"

Missandei stops, and a furious blush paints red across her face. Dany smiles, "So you simply continued your nightly activities into your dreams?"

The summer islander nods, an embarrassed smile showing how much she enjoyed her experience, "Marian has always said that the Fade was the realm of dreams, and now she is sharing it with me."

Both women turn their eyes to the mage and the dwarf again, as the mage burst into a fit of laughter.

"Really? In the stew?" Marian asks after gaining her breath

"Oh yes," Tyrion smirks, "And you didn't let me get to the best part."

"Oh?"

"I was going to continue, after you regained your breath, to say that I confessed to flogging the one eyed snake, skinned my sausage, and made the bald man cry into the stew, which I do believe my sister ate!'

They both start laughing this time, with Tyrion managing to get out between chuckles, "At least I hope she did."

Marian shakes her head, "Man, you have a fucked up family."

"You have no idea," Tyrion tells her, mirth drifting away at the mention of his family, "it seems, of all their number, only my surviving niece and nephew bear any of my good will. If either of them are alive when the queen decides to reclaim Westeros, they are the only ones I will ask be spared her vengeance against my family."

"Dany likes kids, so she'd probably go for it," Marian nods

Tyrion takes another sip from his wine and raises an eyebrow at her, "You treat her grace with far more familiarity than anyone else would ever dare. How is it you were never flogged for insolence, back wherever you are from?"

Marian smirks, "Well, that probably has something to do with the fact that i'm very good at melting faces. And as for why I treat Dany like I treat you and Barristan, it's cause I feel like everyone should have a friend who sees them as a person, rather than a walking title."

Tyrion tilts his head, "I thought all saw the queen as a person? I certainly do, it is just that I am capable of showing proper respect, even when it is not truly deserved."

"I'm sensing a story in there," Marian notes

"Quite right!" Tyrion clasps his hands together and sighs. Leaning back he unlinks them and waves one in the air, "You've no doubt heard of my nephew Joffrey, now dead and former king?"

"I have," Marian nods,. "Rumor from across the sea is that he was a mean little bugger."

"He was worse than a mean little bugger," Tyrion corrects, poking a finger in her direction, "The former king was a vicious little shit. Joffrey enjoyed cutting open animals, torturing women, and starving the small folk for his own amusement."

"Wow, how did he not die in like a riot or something?"

"Have you ever heard of royalty dying in a riot?"

"Well, no, but that's because most riots… never… reach. Oh."

"Exactly," Tyrion nods. He smiles and then takes a sip of wine, "It wasn't for lack of trying mind you. I can remember the goldcloaks coming to me when I was hand of the king with no less than three plots to assassinate the king courtesy of the peasantry, a month."

"Wow, really?"

"Really. He was a terrible excuse for a human being and an even worse king. I don't know who finally managed to poison him, but if ever I do find out, I am likely to kiss them before I hit them."

"Why would you hit them?"

"I was the one accused of killing him," Tyrion tells her

Marian nods in understanding, "Right, a kiss and a hit."


	31. Stark Rewards

**The Dragon and the Hawke 31**

It ended up taking two months for the Arena to be retrofitted, the fighters to be arranged, and for Daario to go through every last man who volunteered to make sure that they were actually volunteering. In the end, it seemed that most were in fact men who wanted to fight in the pits for gold and glory. The ones who did not were quickly released and whoever had tried to sell them into the pits were swiftly and silently hunted down and fed to the dragons.

It did not take that long for Tyrion to become accustomed to the court, and to find that the skills that his father had so spitefully forced upon him were integral to helping run the city. His time in Lannisport perfecting the sewage system proved invaluable for the simple reason that Meereen really needed a new way to get rid of its shit.

For centuries, the task of removing waste was done by slaves that had angered their masters or were owned by the city itself, but with slaves no longer existing, a new system needed to be made. Tyrion took a week and three massive carts full of Marian's looted gold, hired any willing man or woman from the homeless shelters, and had them dig and erect waste avenues and paths for piping to be placed in once they were complete.

When he was done, everyone was very happy with the results.

The second thing that he managed to do was get the Empire running at a profit. A letter to the Iron Bank of Braavos asked for a representative to come to appraise the cities under the empire's control and see if it was worth investing in, and then he had gone about the closest towns to Meereen and started explaining how farming had been done in Westeros.

If you could say one thing about his former home, it was that the farmers knew how to get everything they could and more out of the soil during both summer and winter. He had taken care to read up on farming methods that were and were not used in Slaver's Bay, and then change what he could. He also used his knowledge on the various methods of fishing and animal husbandry to get the food supply for the city to as high as it could get. Once he knew he had succeeded, he sent word to Yunkai and Astapor with lists of everything they were to do in order to get the same profitability from their land.

When asked how he knew what to do, both in regards to the sewage and the farming, Tyrion had told Dany, "I am a dwarf, your grace. I am a dwarf, and I am a Lannister. This means that I was born a bastard, but that I could not be left in a forest for the wolves. My elder brother is the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, I chose to be the best in other ways. There is no man, not even a Maester, that knows as much as I do. I made sure of it."

"How?" Dany asks, staring down at the small man who seemed taller than any she had ever met at this moment

"Because no man has devoted as much time as myself to the accumulation of knowledge, and no many has tried to know everything _about_ everything before myself," Tyrion tells her, "Maesters fear magic, and do not devote their time to learning about anything but the scholarly arts. I do not limit myself so, and before I fled King's Landing, I had the largest library of any on the continent."

"So you tell me you are a Maester?" Dany raises an eyebrow

"I am better than a Maester," Tyrion smirks, splaying his hands, "And far more useful, too!"

"I'll say!" Marian agrees from her seat, "I don't have to burn the air around my face when i walk through the city anymore!"

"Happy to help," Tyrion tells her, "Though I must say, Meereen was in far better condition than King's Landing."

"Why do you say that?"

"The smell of shit got into everything, even food."

"Oh, maker, that must have been terrible."

"You get used to it after a while."

Turning to Dany, Marian tells her, "I vote that when we take Westeros, we do not set up shop in King's Landing, it sounds awefull."

"It only got worse after my shit of a nephew became King," Tyrion tells her, "He stopped paying for the shit runners, and then complained constantly about the smell."

"What runners?" Dany asks, trying to figure out how they had gotten so far off track; they had originally called Tyrion in so they could thank him for his services and offer him a place on the council officially, but now they were talking about something called 'shit runners,' and she had no idea how to get off the subject.

"It isn't important, your grace," Tyrion assures her

"Very well," Dany nods, glad to have escaped a possibly difficult conversation, "Now, Tyrion Lannister, you have performed services to my Empire that have proven invaluable, ask for a reward, and if it is within my power, I will see it done."

Tyrion nods and lowers his head in thought. The dwarf thinks on everything he could ask, but then an old sympathy crawls into his heart and he knows what he has to request. Looking up, he tells the Queen, "Your grace, I do not know if you are aware, but I am wed. Or I was until I was arrested. My wife, Sansa Stark, vanished on the day of Joffrey's assassination, and my sister believes her at least partially responsible for the deed."

Dany raises an eyebrow, "What is your request, Tyrion?"

"I would ask that Marian use her abilities to find my wife, and see that she is not in danger."

Dany blinks, then turns her eyes to Marian, who had a frown crawling across her face. The frown quickly shaped into one that revealed that the mage turned god did not know if she could actually do something of that nature, but it was clear that she was willing. Marian turns her gaze to Dany and nods, "I'll give it a shot."

"Thank you, your grace," Tyrion bows

"Marian, take Lord Lannister to one of the antechambers and see what you can do."

Marian hops out of her chair and starts striding down the steps, "Got it! Let's go, Tyrion, we've got a wife to find and magic to experiment with!"

Tyrion follows after, having to put into practice the walk he had perfected over the years to keep up with the mage. It does not take the pair long to locate a free chamber, and the enter it. Tyrion looks about it, and with just a glance he can tell that what they have entered was once a pleasure chamber for one of the masters that lived in the pyramid, and that it has been converted into a storage room.

White sheets hang over ornate furniture and there are hints of red and black silk underneath the common cotton. Tyrion pulls the sheet off of one particularly tall piece and finds a ridiculously ornate chair that had obviously been made for the sake of someone's ego.

"ooh, good idea!" Marian notes, taking the sheet from him and with a quick application of magic, sticks it to the wall, "I'll see if I can find her and throw what I find up there."

"Can you do this?" Tyrion asks

"Of course!" Marian boasts, then adds, "I think. Gimme a minute to figure it out."

That said, she pulls herself onto a table and crosses her legs as she stares at the hung sheet. Tyrion climbs into the chair he uncovered and watches Marian as she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. After a while, without opening her eyes, she tells him, "Describe your wife."

"She is young, seventeen or eighteen at this point, long red hair done in braids, pale skin, freckled," Tyrion thinks long about how else to describe Sansa, an image of the girl shaping in his head as he tries to think of what else to say. After a moment, he decides to add, "She never smiles, never frowns, her time in-"

"Got her!" Marian tells him, and his eyes spring to the hanging sheet.

There is an image on the sheet, one that spreads further and further out as he watches, almost as though it is flying towards something. Eventually it stops in a snow filled forest, and he can see Sansa and, if he was not mistaken, Theon Greyjoy. He did not know how that was possible, considering the Greyjoy was a prisoner of the Boltons.

The Boltons.

"Can you take us there? Or take her here?" Tyrion asks, springing from his chair

Marian's eyes open, and she looks down at him in confusion, "Why? You just wanted to see her, right? Make sure she's safe?"

"Oh she is far from safe," Tyrion tells her, then points at Theon, "That is Theon Greyjoy, a prisoner of the Boltons, who betrayed and slaughtered her family. I don't think she could be in any more danger than she is now."

Tyrion watches as Theon walks beside Sansa towards a young man with a scruff of black hair beside a weirwood tree. His frown grows more and more prominent as he watches, and then suddenly he can feel the cold. He can also hear the words, "Who comes here, before the old gods?"

He blinks, and turns to Marian, whose glowing blue eyes turn from him towards the dual columns of men leading to the massive tree. Tyrion turns around and the air behind him seems to be breaking apart, faded green seeing through unseen cracks in reality. His eyes return to Sansa and Theon, as well as Roose Bolton by the looks of the man, as Theon says, "Sansa, of House Stark, who comes here to be wed."

"Excuse me!" Tyrion finds himself calling out, as eyes turn and swords fly from scabbards, he adds, "She is already wed! To me, in fact!"

"Tyrion?" he can hear Sansa whisper in a mixture of hope and confusion

"Lord Lannister?" Roose Bolton barely reacts to his appearance, his legendary stoicism rearing its head, "And you brought a guest?"

"To my wedding," The scruffy boy growls, stepping up beside Roose.

"Careful, Ramsay, this is Tyrion Lannister we are speaking to."

"Aye, and another of his whores."

"I beg your pardon!?" Marian narrows her eyes, and they lock on Ramsay, "Would you dare to repeat that?"

"You heard me, who-"

"Ramsay!" Roose growls, silencing his son. Turning to Marian, he bows his head, "My lady, I do not think I've had the pleasure of learning your name?"

"Marian Hawke," She tells him and smirks when the Bolton men start sharing looks of fear

"The supposed god of the Targaryen girl?" Roose asks for clarification

"That's me," Marian agrees, giving him a toothy smile, and deciding not to deny the supposed god status that the world seemed intent on slapping her with.

"You don't look like a god to me," Ramsay snorts, "Just a girl in need of a little… love."

"And you'd love to be the one to give it, wouldn't you, kid," Marian rolls her eyes

"I would," Ramsay nods, "But I'll be fine loving your corpse."

A crossbow bolt flies from the Bolton men and spears through Marian's heart. The mage blinks, and looks down at the bolt, frowning at it, "What, again!?"

Tyrion takes a great deal of joy watching grown men shit themselves, and even greater joy when the ones shitting themselves take pleasure in flaying people alive. Really, so far he could see no downside to Marian proving yet again that she was far more powerful than anyone on the planet could kill.

Marian, for her part, just rolled her eyes and flung her armored hand forward as the other one yanked the bolt out of her chest. Lightning arched from her fingers and struck the man who fired the bolt at her. The man explodes in a shower of flaming bloody chunks of person.

Eyes travel from the spot the man had previously been to Marian and back several times before the mage declares, "Now then! We are here to pick up Lady Sansa. You will give her to us, or I will turn all of you into food for the local wildlife. Is that understood?"

"It is," Roose Bolton nods, and he turns to Theon and Sansa, who had been shuffled to the back of the crowd, "Lady Sansa, if you would please join your husband?"

The process of crossing through the Bolton men seems to take hours, though it is only a collection of a dozen or so steps. Each time her foot plants in the ground there is a deafening crunch of fresh snow being crushed. Each breath feels infinitely long and loud. But then she is next to Tyrion, holding his hand, and for just a moment everything feels right in the world.

But then she remembers that he is Tyrion Lannister, and everything crashes down again. She wonders what new horror awaits her, looking to the terrifying woman in armor for instruction. It is quick in coming, and Marian tells them, "Tyrion, take your wife back through the breach."

Tyrion nods, and he pulls Sansa through the broken air, and into the warmth of Meereen. The Lady Stark does not know how to handle the sudden change in temperature, and she breaths a great breath of awe and fear as she takes in her surroundings. She turns around and sees the snowy land of the North that she had just left, and she sees Marian stepping through the wall.

The God clenches her hand in a fist, and the image on the wall is shattered, sounding like a thousand shards of broken glass breaking into even smaller pieces. A friendly smile is sent her way and a hand extended, "Hi there! I'm Marian Hawke, nice to meet you!"


	32. Demons

**The Dragon and the Hawke 32**

For the first time in a very, very long time, Marian Hawke realized that she flew by the seat of her pants. It was obvious to other people that she did this, even the stupidest and brazen of men would at least take a few seconds to think on their actions, maybe even just a split second. Marian didn't even need that long to come to a decision.

She was currently realizing the nature of her decision making prowess, because she was facing down a rather angry glare from her wife. Missandei had folded her arms, asked what had happened, and then narrowed her beautiful eyes once the story was complete. It had been two minutes since that, and Marian was starting to fidget.

Not to mention she was regretting going into such detail about what she had done! She could have completely avoided the story, and just said that she had pulled Tyrion's wife to them rather than spend the energy to go and get her. But then again, she didn't lie.

Long ago, Marian had seen how easy it was to lie to people, and fall into the habit of lying to everyone about everything. Just take the Bard turned Sister Lilliana from Lothering! That woman had breathed secrets her entire life and looked completely miserable because of it. So Marian had chosen to never lie, to anyone, even Templars that straight up asked if she was a mage.

Her cavalier, bordering on negligent, attitude towards violence served her well when difficult questions were answered honestly. Her family had needed to move at least ten times before settling in Lothering due to excessive Templar deaths in the territories they settled before then. As a result of her decision to never lie, Marian lost most of her ability to be tactful in anything other than a snarky capacity.

Which is why Missandei had received the entire and unabridged truth in regards to the afternoon's escapades. This was also why Sansa Stark was staring at her from beside Tyrion with a mixture of awe and bowel loosened terror. The Thunder Goddess was almost entirely certain that if the poor girl's stomach hadn't been completely empty, she would have released the contents.

"You went to the other side of the world, and did not tell me?" Missandei asks, finally

"I did, yes," Marian nods, then adds, "And I'm sorry, but I thought I had to act fast."

Missandei turns to Tyrion and Sansa, "Did she need to act fast?"

Tyrion nods, "It looked to be a wedding ceremony, and I am sure that my dear wife would not have wished to be married into the family that had slaughtered her own. She already had to suffer that fate."

Sansa flinches, her usual control having slipped after the divine intervention. She nods, "I did not wish to be married to Ramsey Bolton, and the rumors of his nature are true enough to be terrible."

"Rumors?" Missandei asks

"He enjoys his family's ancient practice of flaying people alive," Sansa tells the woman who seemed to hold the power over a god, "And he enjoys hunting and killing women who bore him."

"Wow, I really need to go kill that guy," Marian blinks, "Just straight up break him."

"You will not," Missandei tells her wife

"Awe, come on!"

"I do not want you shot through the heart for a third time, my love," Missandei steps up to Marian, caresses her face, then kisses her.

Marian takes the kiss, her lips forming into a smile. When it ends, she leans her head back and concedes, "Okay, no tearing holes to the other ends of the earth."

Tyrion, who had grown used to the public displays of same sex affection, plows through the distraction, and asks, "Speaking of tearing holes, how is it that you were able to do such a thing?"

Marian steps away from Missandei, and looks over at her height impaired friend. She almost starts to explain, but then she sees the blank look of confusion that Sansa uses to stare at her with. It only takes a second of locked gazes to break Sansa from her stupor, and the girl blushes before looking away. Marian smiles at the shyness and says, "I think I forgot to introduce you, Lady Sansa, to my wife, Missandei Hawke."

Missandei smiles graciously at Sansa, who smiles through her blush at the other woman.

Turning back to Tyrion, Marian starts to give the best explanation that she can come up with, "So, the way I figure it, I'm basically what my people would refer to as a demon, though I'm probably like six or seven hundred times more powerful than any of them. Now that is mostly cause they feed and exist off of emotions, and I am capable of having a full breadth of them.

"Now, what do I mean by feed and exist off emotion? Well, the creatures that my people called demons were basically spirits connected to a singular emotion, you know: anger, lust, pride, jealousy, love, hate, and all that jazz. So they would be solid personifications of those emotions that also fed off of those same emotions to stay … alive, for lack of a better term.

"And I think I spent so much time in the Fade, which is where they come from, that I became like them. As a result, I also feed off of emotion, and because I'm human I get the full spectrum to keep me powered."

"And how does that explain you creating a, I believe you called it a breach?" Tyrion asks

"Well all of those demons, if powerful enough, can break in and out of the fade with the assistance of a human host. But I don't need a human host, cause I'm human. So I basically have that ability of theirs to enter and exit the fade at will, without having to jump into some poor shmoe's body to do it."

"And being able to take myself and Lady Sansa?" Tyrion raises an eyebrow

"That's actually a new one for me, too," Marian tells him, shrugging, "No idea how I did it, just know that I did. So, yay!"

Marian waves her hands in the air parallel with her hand to emphasise the minor joke. Nobody laughs, their eyes are all looking behind her. Turning as well, Marian sees Dany standing in the doorway.

"Yay?" Dany asks, "What are we celebrating?"

"I managed to save Tyrion's wife from certain doom," Marian tells her

"Certain doom?" Dany's eyebrow lifts

"Hey, marriage to a total ass is absolutely certain doom!" Marian tells her, justifying herself

Dany rolls her eyes, then moves them to the only person she does not know, Sansa Stark. The Queen strides forward, stepping up to her fellow lady, and takes her hands, "Well, I know the feeling of certain doom, as Marian has put it. If you wish to speak of your ordeal, I am willing to listen, lady…?"

"Stark, your grace," Sansa tells her in a half-whisper.

"Stark," Dany leans her head back, looks the girl over, and makes a swift decision, "Well, Lady Stark, I will not hold you to the crimes of your father if you do not hold me to mine."

Sansa quickly shakes her head, "Never, your grace."

Dany blinks, then nods, sure that she would have to tear the story from the girl to explain her terrifying enthusiasm for keeping on her good side. The level of sheer terror that the girl held for her was almost palpable, so there would be that to contend with, but if she wanted to get to know Tyrion's wife, then by Marian, she would get to know Tyrion's wife.

Marian, for her part, blinks at the sudden feeling that someone had said her name.


	33. What should we call him?

**The Dragon and the Hawke 33**

Finally, the arena was opening. It had taken two months, six deaths, and a trio of disgruntled dragons to get there, but it was finished. With its opening, a grand games was arranged to celebrate this fact.

The first round of the day would pit every slaver that had tried to get their slaves into the games, against those very slaves. It was terribly ironic and in Marian's opinion a fitting level of harsh punishment.

The round didn't last very long, to the disappointment of most of the audience. As soon as Dany clapped her hands the slavers ran for the gates with their former property right on their heels. The former slaves, actually given weapons, proceeded to hack, slash, beat, and all around destroy their oppressors.

It warmed Maran's heart to see such enthusiastic violence aimed at the deserving. Tyrion was trying not to look to closely at what was happening. Sansa was imagining the slavers as the Boltons, Lord Tywin, and Cersei, so a smile was spreading across her lips at the sight of the bloodthirsty display. Missandei, who had grown up in Astapor as a slave to an Unsullied trainer, wasn't moved particularly in any direction. Dany was just glad that the issue was finally being settled. And Daario was bored watching the preliminaries.

After the corpses were carted off the sand, Dany stood. A hush fell over the audience as they waited in anticipation for the Empress's word. It was a quick speech, without much meat or message, only thanking them for coming to the pits, and for joining together in one aspect in the hope of joining together as a people in all others.

It got the message across without taking away from the overall force of it. She had learnt that she did not need to mince words with a people who already had faith in her as their ruler. Once she was finished with her speech, the Dragons flew over the arena and roared.

This was the signal for the real first round to begin.

Twenty men marched out onto the arena from the south gate. Each had the grim looks of veteran warriors, and the assured steps of men who knew each other's measure. Soon they arranged themselves in a tight square on their end of the arena. They turned to her and shouted out, "We thank you for the chance to prove our strength, oh grand Empress."

Dany smiles tightly, but the distance makes it look genuine, and she claps her hands.

The north gate opens and a pair of massive lions enter the arena. The audience hushes at the sight of the beasts. Creatures of the size that these lions would grow to, about twice the height of a normal man, were only found in the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai.

As the twenty man team and the lions face off, Missandei turns to her wife and asks, "Where did you manage to find such large monsters?"

Marian shrugs, "You remember the times I asked if I could test my newly minted breach making ability?"

"I do," Missandei nods, then raises an eyebrow, "You found them on one of those trips?"

"Yep," Marian nods, "Also found an old guy talking to a kid under a tree, some blue men, and an orgy."

Missandei thinks on that, wondering if she really wants to know. It takes her a while, but eventually she comes to the conclusion that no, she does not.

The matter drops, and both turn their attention back to the fights. Things were not looking good for the humans, with a full half their number in various states of dead or close enough not to make a difference. The lions were faring so much better that it was ridiculous; as it stood, they were essentially playing with their food at this point.

"Marian," Dany waves a hand to attract her friend's attention

"Yeah?"

"They did know what they were going to be fighting, correct?"

"Of course! I wouldn't just throw giant lions at people! That's a dick move, and I try to avoid those."

Dany nods, satisfied but still unhappy with the casual nature of their deaths. She watched in resignation as another of the fighters was swallowed by a lion, but then her eyes widened at the sight of one of the monsters wobbling. There is a collective gasp from the audience as a sword pierces the lion's stomach from the inside going out.

"Damn, that's hardcore," Marian notes as they watch the leader of the fighters cut his way out of the lion's stomach.

"What is that man's name?" Dany asks

"No idea," Marian tells her, "I think it starts with an H, or maybe a D, I'm not sure."

"It doesn't really matter," Tyrion notes, "After today he will be known by something else entirely."

"What do you think they'll call him?" Sansa asks for general discussion as they watch the man face off alone against the second lion

"Assuming he survives this?" Marian thinks, watching as the man rolls out of the way of a tackle and picks up a dropped claymore, "Probably Lionslayer."

"A boring title if ever there was one," Tyrion snorts

"Aye," Daario nods, "But look to old Mero as an example, man wasn't overly large, but he was a bastard. So when he slew Titan, he got his title."

"There was someone named Titan?" Marian asks

"It was an arena title," Daario tells her, "Big fucker, too. You ever hear of the Mountain that Rides?"

Tyrion, Sansa, and Dany all nod in distaste while Marian and Missandei shake their heads. To them, he explains, "Big guy, supposed to be around eight foot. Titan was bigger than that."

"So he got the name Titan's Bastard for killing Titan and being an asshole?" Marian asks

"Exactly."

"Huh, then I guess we've got to wait until one of his friend's name him, then," Marian frowns in disappointment, but shrugs.

All the while, the massive lion had been chasing the unlucky man around the arena. The man ducked and weaved, dived and dipped, rolled and dodged, all to stay only a breath away from the lion's jaws. People were cheering him on, and then yelled in horror as he trips.

The man falls onto his back, but rolls to the side almost as soon as he lands. The Lion slams into the ground where he had just lain, and then it roars in pain as the man's cleaver takes its right paw off.

The cheers start up again, even louder now, as the man stands and raises his claymore to the retreating monster. There is a stare down, both man and beast knowing that the next move would spell the end of one or both of them.

Unfortunately, nobody would truly know who the victor of that fight would have been, as quite suddenly there was pandemonium in the audience. Screams of pain and horror come from every section almost in unison as the Sons of the Harpy finally make their move. There weren't many of them, somewhere close to two hundred, and they were relying on the fear their first strike made to clear the area and open it up for them to charge the Empress and her retinue.

When they finally did reach the queen, they regretted it.

Marian and Daario were not pleased that two months worth of work was suddenly and violently rendered obsolete, and were killing any golden masked moron to even come within spitting distance of them.

Marian was so angry in fact, that she was going without magic to take out her opponents. If there were ever any suspicions that Marian would have been a weak woman without her magics had never seen her beat three men to death with her staff at the same time.

The one, and probably only, silver lining to the catastrophe that was the terrorist attack by the Sons, was that Daario had a feeling that they would try something like this. Almost immediately after the pandemonium started, the gates were barred from the outside, and only in a single file pile were people getting out.

So the Harpies were trapped in the arena, and quickly figuring that out. After the initial fear wore off, and people began to realize that there were only a few of the bastards around, anger set in.

Nobody messes with the Fighting Pits. It had been an unspoken but accepted rule back when Meereen was still run by the Great Masters, that nobody could instigate violence in the arena if they were not part of the competition. If violence was instigated, the troublemakers were tossed into the arena to either die or settle their differences.

As a result, there were new types of screams being heard around the arena. They consisted of shock, fear, and then a sudden cut off that indicated the screamer had hit the ground. This happened all across the arena, forcing the Sons of the Harpy out into the Pit, with the Giant Lion that had forgotten its original opponent.

Marian, Dany, and the rest of their collected friends, advisors, and loved ones, watched with satisfaction as the last of the old guard of Meereen went screaming down the lion's gullet.

"Do you think he'll get along with the dragons?" Tyrion asks, deciding then and there that the Lion would be his

Marian smirks, and then offers, "Let's find out."


	34. Jon Snow

**The Dragon and the Hawke 34**

The day after the first fights of the arena, Dany and her advisors were sitting and relaxing on one of the balconies. Above them the three Dragons bathed in the sunlight, while below the massive lion that Tyrion had named Kevan, after the only adult relative that he actually liked, basked in the shade beneath the balcony.

"I still don't understand how you regrew that beast's hand?" Sansa asks after most casual conversation had stalled. The girl was very carefully not looking in the direction of Marian and Missandei's conjured love seat, as there were several articles of clothing hanging from the edge that would have been required to preserve decency.

"It's a simple matter of a concentrated stasis spell, and then a healing spell to fuse the limb back on," Marian tells her, the goddess's hand popping over the edge of the seat as she explains this, waving negligently

Sansa nods, understanding some of what the woman told her; in her terms, Marian had frozen the paw and then stitched it back on with magic. She had once read of a similar treatment in the legendary Yi Ti, and that it was apparently an incredibly effective could only guess that doing an already effective bit of healing with the added context of magic made the whole process easier.

"What I want to know, is why he listens to me?" Tyrion says, turning his statement into a question as he dropped a slice of meat down to his new lion.

"A bit of mind fuckery," Marian told him

Tyrion nods, and sits back down into his seat next to Sansa.

They managed to relax for a full hour before anything interrupted them. What it was that interrupted them was Varis, stopping just on the inside of the balcony and calmly clearing his throat to grab the Queen's attention.

Turning her eyes to him, the Queen sees that he has news from Westeros for her, ready to be presented. She stands, wraps her robe around herself, and steps inside to hear what the eunuch has to say.

"Your Grace," the spymaster bows

"What do you have?" She asks, moving to a chair and indicating for him to sit as well

The large man sits and gives her a smile, one not filled with the usual daggers, and tells her, "I bring interesting news from King's Landing; the Queen Regent has confessed to having an incestuous affair with her cousin Lancel and taken the walk of shame. Also, it seems that something has set the Boltons in the north into a rage."

The man giggles to himself as he casts an eye out onto the patio, at Sansa, before turning his eyes back to the queen, "As a result, they were unprepared for a sudden attack from King Stannis Baratheon, and it seems they have been pushed from Winterhold and Wintertown, the capital keep and city of the North."

"Interesting," Dany nods, and pours herself some wine so that she can mull over the news. Sipping it, she thinks on how she should proceed with this matter.

Before she can fall too deeply in thought though, Varis gives her one more bit of information, "It also seems, your grace, that something stirs in the Lands of Always Winter."

Dany raises an eyebrow in question

"The new Commander of the Night's Watch, one Jon Snow, has sent letters to all the lords of Westeros, begging for aid against the Long Night."

"Jon Snow?" Sansa perks up, pulls herself out of her chair, and steps into the room, "My brother?"

Varis nods, "Indeed, my Lady."

"Marian," Sansa turns and rushes out to talk to Marian, her excitement helping her ignore the light petting that the near naked Marian and Missandei were indulging in, "Can you take me to my Brother?"

The couple breaks apart and Marian sits up, she looks down at Missandei for permission. When her wife gives it, Marian hops out of the chair, summons her clothing back onto herself, and tells Sansa, "To the White Room!"

"You mean the room we did this in last time?" Tyrion asks

"Of course!"

"It's just, you've never called it that before?" Tyrion gropes for an explanation as he drops out of his own chair to follow the pair.

"I haven't had occasion to call it that before," Marian points out

"Alright, fair enough," Tyrion concedes

They reach the antichamber beside the throne room after a few minutes of walking, and Marian hops up onto her meditation table. Tyrion and Sansa move to sit on the one uncovered chair in the room and wait patiently.

"Alright, what does your brother look like?" She finally asks when she gets into just the right position so that her ass wouldn't itch at a bad moment.

"When last I saw him," Sansa starts, tears dripping down her eyes as she remembers that the last time she had seen Jon she hadn't even said goodbye to him, and that was years ago, when her family was still alive. She gulps down her tears, "When last I saw him, he had long curly hair, grey eyes, a hint of a black beard, his de-" She swallows when she realizes that the expression that Jon had so often carried had been the same that she learnt to wear in King's Landing, "His deadened expression was permanently etched into his face, and- "

"That's enough, I've got him," Marian tells her

Sure enough, the white sheet stuck to the wall was showing a man sitting in front of a desk, writing down notes. Sansa blinked back tears as she looked upon the last of her family and asked, "Can - can I step through?"

Jon looked up sharply at the noise, eyes narrowed. Then they widen at what he sees, "Sansa?"

Sansa jumps out of her chair and rushes to the wall. For a brief second before she hits, she fears that she won't go through, but she does not smash into hard stone. Instead she smashes into warm leather and flesh as she collapses into Jon with a sob.

"Oh, Jon!" She holds him tight, even as he does the same.

"How, how are you here?" He asks

"That would be me," Marian tells him as she and Tyrion step through the wall

Jon's eyes snap up and he eyes Marian, Tyrion, and the shattered wall behind them. He takes it all in, and asks, "Magic?"

"Hey! Cool, got it in one!" Marian notes happily.

"I've seen magic before," Jon tells her, but then his brow furrows, "But never from one of the living."

"Oh snap, you've got undead?" Marian asks in alarm, hoping that she wouldn't have to get close to a walking corpse

"Unfortunately," Jon nods, "The White Walkers and their wights march on the wall as we speak. They have already claimed most of the land beyond the Wall, and we are the next obstacle in their path to victory."

"The White Walkers are real?" Sansa asks in horror.

Before Jon can even nod in agreement, a young boy runs into the room, "Commander, one of the wildlings you brought in says - oh, sorry, I didn-"

"It's alright Olly," Jon assures the boy, "What is it?"

The boy picks himself back up, and then tells Jon, "It's one of the Wildlings you saved, says he knows something about your uncle Benjen."

"What?" Sansa exclaims, and moves so fast it's almost a blurr, and takes the boy by the shoulders, "Are you sure it's our uncle Benjen?"

"Y-yes Ma'am," Olly nods quickly, "Said he was First Ranger."

Sansa looks back to Jon, and a smile spreads across her face. He steps up, takes her by the shoulder, "Take my cloak and meet me outside."

Sansa nods, and moves to grab her brother's cloak at the other end of the office, finally feeling the freezing chill. She grabs it, dons it, and then waves for her husband and Marian to follow as she rushes out the door.

They make it to the courtyard in record time, and see a congregation of Watchmen at the other end of it. Sansa runs to them, but then she hears the sound of metal through flesh, and a voice intone, "For the Watch."

She stutters to a halt, confused.

"Olly?"

Jon's voice, pained and confused comes from the center of the circle, and she can't help but cry out, "Jon!?"

The men of the Night's Watch turn almost in unison, and see the Lady Stark as well as the Lord Lannister and the Lady Hawke taking up the rear, and they leave an opening that lets the trio see Olly holding a knife, ready to stab it into Jon's heart. The only reason he hadn't yet, was because he had turned his gaze to her.

Seeing the would be assassination, Marian extends her power and slams the men and the boy away from Jon. There are shouts of alarm as nearly twenty men and a fourteen year old boy are flung through the air by an unseen force, but those cries are ignored in favor of rushing over to Jon to start casting a healing spell.

The Commander of the Night's Watch blinks up at her, at a loss for words, and then he is given the largest non-sexual hug of his life by Sansa as the girl finally collects her wits and smacks into him with a sob.

"Sansa!" Tyrion scolds, "Let Marian heal him, before you cause the man another injury."

"I'm done, actually," Marian tells him, "With him, at least."

She turns to glare at the Watchmen, and her hands crackle with lightning as she thinks of ways to make these men suffer for such a blatant assassination attempt. She stalks over to the boy, remembering that she had been about his age when she killed her first Templar, and felt no regrets for what she was about to do. He hand raised in a claw, a pop of electricity emphasising the gesture.

"No!" Jon's pained voice intercepts her hand as it descends, and she turns her attention to him, "They will pay for this attempt, but we will not pass judgement."

"And who will, Snow?" An angry ginger haired old man demands, struggling and failing against Marian's power in an attempt to stand.

"We will," A new voice declares, and eyes turn to see a man of about sixty with a salt and pepper beard standing in the lead of twenty or so new men. All of them were glaring at the assassins in anger.

Marian for her part, frowned, "Okay, I think this is gonna take longer than tonight… I'm gonna pop back to Meereen and tell Dany and Missandei that we may take a while."

The mage drops Olly, who lands with a grunt, releases her power over the other men, and strides back towards the Commander's office.

"Isn't Meereen on the other side of the world?" One of the more educated Watchmen who had come to take the assassins into custody asks.

"For her, it may as well be a walk," Tyrion tells them from beside Jon Snow and Sansa Stark

"Oh, hey, look at that! The Dwarf's back!" Another of the Watchmen noted, far more impressed that a southern lord would visit the wall twice of his own volition than that a woman could apparently walk halfway across the world in less than a day


	35. A conversation in Two Rooms

**The Dragon and the Hawke 35**

It did not take long for the would be assassins of Jon Snow to be rounded up and placed in cells. There was a certain irony to the fact that less than half a year ago those same cells had been where the Wildlings were confined in. This was actually intentional on the part of the Black Brothers who did not count amongst the twenty or so traitors.

An hour after everything was settled Jon Snow, Sansa, Tyrion, Marian, and some of the more prominent Black Brothers were gathered within his office, along with the aged Knight Davos Seaworth. They did not speak for a long time, everyone having to process the events that had led up to this, and the fact that there was a spacial rift torn through the world on one of the walls that showed a much more well lit room than the one they were in.

"So, what are we to do?" Eddison Tollett, the last of Jon's friends in Castle Black asks

"They tried to kill the commander," One of the more burly and aged men tells him, "I may not agree with Lord Snow, but his word is law when it comes to the Watch. Thorne and his ilk should all get the sword."

"Can we afford the loss?" Another brother asks, "I know you were not there, but what I saw at Hardhome tells me that we can not afford to lose any man."

"Hardhome?" Tyrion asks

"A ruin," The brother tells him, and his eyes seem to glaze as he recalls the massacre, "And now a graveyard. We went with Tormund Giantsbane, a few of the freed wildlings, and twenty brothers. We got there, and then the Wights came. They slaughtered more than I could ever count in a lifetime. They killed everything that couldn't get away, women, children, old, young. And then, when we got to the boats, one of the Walkers showed himself."

"Walkers?" Tyrion tilts his head, "Surely you don't mean the White Walkers?"

"Aye, and not just any," Jon picks up the story from behind his desk, "The Night's King himself. All he did was walk across the docks, and raise his hands."

The Lord Commander snaps his fingers, a muffled sound through his gloves, "And like that, he had a hundred thousand new wights. I fear that Ser Endrew is correct, we cannot afford to lose any more brothers."

Edd spits on the ground, shaking his head, "Be honest with yourself, Jon. You don't want to have to give the order to kill them cause it'll kill Olly, too."

Jon closes his eyes, and rubs his fingers together as he tries to think on what Edd is telling him. He knows that his friend is right, but not if that changed anything. He hated the men who tried to kill him, he even hated Olly, but he also sympathized with them, and he also needed them alive and able for the coming battle against the Long Night. He wished he had time to think of a solution, but time was not a luxury anymore.

"Hang on, sorry, I'm new to this part of the world. What are White Walkers?"

Eyes turn to Marian, who just tilts her head as she waits for some form of answer.

Jon tells her, "They are the ancient enemy. Necromancers who control ice, dwell in the land of always winter, and hate the living. Thousands of years ago, they sought to conquer the realm of men, but failed. Now they are trying again, with a thousand years worth of dead men as their army."

Marian frowns, "Blood magics and Necromancers, I feel like I'm back home."

The men of the Night's Watch all exchange glances, wondering just who the fuck this woman is. Before any can ask her directly, she hops off of the table she had been using as a seat and tells them, "Alright, I'm gonna go tell Dany that I need to borrow the boys for a bit, if we're going up against Necromancers, we may as well have some Dragons on our side."

And then she turns and walks through the rip in the wall that apparently leads to Meereen. Men stare blankly at the wall, trying to formulate a response, before Jon asks, "Did she just say… Dragons?"

"She did," Tyrion confirms, "Three of them."

"Who in the seven hells is that woman?" Edd asks, looking down at the dwarf

"That, my friend, is Marian Hawke, the Storm God," Tyrion tells her, long having given in to the hype that surrounded the oblivious mage.

"You're fucking with us," Edd narrows his eyes

"She just walked through a wall," Jon notes.

"And on the other side of it is Meereen," Sansa adds, quietly. Though the Lannister, nee Stark, was still terrified of the power that Marian displayed for the most part, she had long come to accept it. What also helped was that Marian sort of reminded her of a more blunt form of Margaery Tyrell, whom she had been fond of during her time in King's Landing, mixed with her husband, who she had come to enjoy the company of now that there was no threat of execution for saying the wrong thing in front of the other Lannisters.

"Bull shit," Edd grunts

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it, lad," Davos Seaworth speaks up for the first time since they had entered the office, "I've seen King Stannis's Red Priestess do impossible things with her god's power. I can only speculate how much more powerful the actual thing would be."

"Aye, we saw the magic of your witch," Ser Endrew Tarth grunts, thinking of the burning of Mance, The King Beyond the Wall. The dead where the ones that needed to be burned, not the living.

Jon Snow may not be aware, but putting an arrow into the Wildling's heart had gained him the favor of a lot of his men, and especially all who were within the office as of this moment. The Commander had mercy and resolve in equal measure, had been fair to the men, and was honest about his motivations. More than anything, it was clear that the threat to Jon Snow was the White Walkers, and fuck a thousand years of hatred between the Night's Watch and the Wildlings.

"Could she and the Dragons turn the tide against the Walkers?" He asks, clearly representing the most of what his men see in him.

Tyrion looks at him, furrows his brow, and rubs his chin. After a moment, he tells Jon, "She conquered Meereen in ten minutes, did you know? From what I have been told, she walked up to the gates, stopped a hundred feet from them, and with a wave of her hand she destroyed gates that had stood for centuries as a symbol of the might of Meereen. She called down lightning of such force that it shattered them. I do not think anything could stop her, not even the White Walkers."

"Will she stay?" Jon then asks

"I do not think so," Tyrion tells him with a shake of his head, "She has a wife in Meereen, and I do not think Missandei would appreciate the cold."

"Wife?" One of the more quiet brothers asks

Tyrion nods, "It seems that whatever faith Marian has started, it does not shy away from couples of the same sex."

"That's blasphemy!" The Brother grunts, angrily

"To the Seven? Certainly, but as a god, Marian can make her own decries, and she has made quite a few that she calls 'Andrastian.' Who or what that is, I haven't a clue, but I try not to disagree with the goddess who could melt my face off."

"I saw her do it once," Sansa tells Jon, shuddering, "It's horrible."

"Why would she do something like that?" The Lord Comander asks the room at large

"The guy whose face I melted liked to do bad things with little boys," Marian's voice drifts out of the wall.

On the other side of the wall stands Marian, Missandei, and Daenerys Targaryen. The black brothers are shocked to see the room on the other side of the wall, and even more shocked that they did not notice the crack widening while they were talking.

Marian waves at everyone and smiles, "Hello everyone! Let me introduce Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, and my lovely wife Missandei."

"Your Grace," Jon stands and offers a bow, which he is relieved to see the Queen does not hesitate in returning.

"Lord Commander," Dany greets, "I appologize for not coming through to speak with you, but unfortunately I do not have any clothes fit for the cold, and I have an Empire that may need my attention."

"I understand, your Grace," Jon tells her, then sits down, "Shall we move on to business, your Grace?"

"Please," Dany nods, and sits in an uncovered chair on her side of the wall, "Marian tells me that you are facing a cult of necromancers? I have had dealings with necromancers in the past, and I will say that I embrace any opporotunity to rid the world of more of their ilk."

"You have encountered White Walkers?" Jon jumps to his feet in horror, "They slipped past the wall?"

Dany raises a hand and says, "Rest easy, Lord Commander, I speak of the warlocks of Qarth. I feel that they are an entirely different beast than the ones you are facing, but I am eager to lend my assisstance."

Jon sighs in relief and lowers himself down into his chair, "I am glad to hear that you are not talking about the Walkers. What we need, your Grace, is a way to take the fight to the White Walkers and roust them before they can even reach the Wall."

"And for that you need my Dragons?" Dany asks

"Aye, your grace, and your god," Jon nods

"God?" Marian asks Missandei while Dany nods in understanding.

Missandei gives her an indulgent smile as Dany tells Jon, "You may have both, temporarly of course, when the time comes. Would you be alright with Marian leaving the crack in your wall so that we may communicate?"

"I see no problems with it, your grace," Jon tells her

"Then it seems we are in agreement," Dany smiles at him and nods.

Jon as well, gives a nod in agreement and turns to look at his brothers as the Queen starts to leave the room in Meereen.

Both are stopped from returning to their regularly scheduled programming when Davos Seaworth stands, "Your Grace."

Dany stops and turns back around as all eyes turn to the smuggler turned knight, "Yes?"

"My name is Davos Seaworth, your grace," He tells her, "I am second in command of the armies of King Stannis Baratheon."

Dany's eyes narrow, old hatred coming to the surface, but her hatred of the Baratheons had long diminished through time and replacement by the Slave Masters she had all but exterminated. She takes a breath, and nods, "Continue."

"Your grace, I feel that I would be remiss in my duties if I did not offer the opporotunity to Parlay between yourself and King Stannis."

"You wish for us to talk?" She asks

"Yes, your grace," He nods, "I can see that you are powerful, and he is as well. I also can guess that you will, one day, return to Westeros. In force if necessary. The realm has suffered enough dueling monarchs."

"And you believe that if there were peace between myself and your King, we could avoid bloodshed?"

"I do."

"Then I accept, and will meet with your King at the earliest convenience."

"Thank you, your grace," Davos bows, "How might we contact you?"

He looks up in time to see a candalabre flying at his head. He catches it and looks through the wall, and at Marian.

"When you want to talk, put a candle in that and light it," The goddess tells him, "I'll make a crack so we can talk."

Davos nods, and then he departs to begin prepping for departure. The Black Brothers all leave the room after him, happy to know that they will have Dragons on their side for the coming battle against the White Walkers. Dany and Missandei leave the antichamber in Meereen.

And like that it is just Marian, Jon, Tyrion, and Sansa left in either room. Marian is the first to speak, "I'm gonna leave the wall open, so whenever you two are ready to come back, just let me know!"

She then leaves as well, and the trio remaining all sit in chairs around Jon's desk to talk.

None would realize that they forgot to finish the discussion involving Jon's would be assassins for several hours and one of the imprisoned men demanded they either kill him or feed him.


	36. Stannis Baratheon

**The Dragon and the Hawke 36**

Stannis Baratheon sat in the Lord's Solar within Winterfell, staring at Davos Seaworth. There had been times that he had doubted the man, times when he had questioned his loyalty, and even times when he had contemplated execution, but there had never been a time when he thought Davos was lying to him.

Until now, that is.

"M'Lord?" Davos asks, quietly, wondering if Stannis had heard him.

Heard him, Stannis had. Believed him, Stannis had not, "You want me to believe that you were face to face with a God?"

"Aye, M'Lord," Davos nods, "Tyrion Lannister called her 'The Storm God'"

Stannis tilts his head, his jaw locking for a moment before he asks, "You had Tyrion Lannister in your grasp and did not take him?"

"I never had the opportunity," Davos tells him, "He was there with the Storm God, and left with her when she went back through her crack in the world."

"Yes, you say that there is now a pathway between Lord Commander Snow's office and an antechamber in Meereen?"

"Sir, I know you find it hard to believe."

"Hard? I find it impossible," Stannis tells him with narrowed eyes, "Who has filled your head with this nonsense?"

"My own eyes, your grace," Davos tells him, bowing his head, "If you would allow, I can show you I speak truly."

Stannis narrows his eyes, "You speak of the candle holder you brought with you?"

"I do."

"Melisandre is looking it over," Stannis tells him, "If there is magic, as you say, she will find it."

Davos nods, then asks, "And until then?"

"You will remain here," Stannis tells him, "And allow the Maester to look you over."

"M'Lord, I am not ill, nor am I deranged," Davos argues

"I will let the Maester or the Priestess decide that," Stannis tells him, "Go. Now."

Davos, understanding that there is no arguing, straightens and nods once before leaving the chamber. Left alone, Stannis leans back into the chair and gazes around the chamber as he thinks. Idly he notes that like with the rest of the ancient seat of House Stark, it had been stripped bare of any possible reminders of that position. The Boltons, and Theon Greyjoy before them, had taken vindictive pleasure in destroying the ancient memorabilia of the noble House.

Where were their Old Gods now? Stannis thought with wry cynicism. The Starks had put their faith in a battered religion for thousands of years, and just like with the Faith of the Seven, it gave them nothing in return for their devotion. He knew that the Red God was different, and he could feel the intent of the divinity in his actions.

And now there was a new god playing tricks, this Storm God of Meereen. The god that was apparently in mortal form, and took a mortal bride, and counseled a queen half the world away. He knew that he was meant to be King, Melisandre had seen that in the flames, it would come to be, but now he wondered how long he would be king. If there was another god, and another monarch, and another divine mantle to be handed out, perhaps the Targaryen girl would take his place after she defeated him as he would defeat the Lannisters.

It didn't take long for the King to start falling into this cycle of repetitive revenge, and it is only when the door to his chamber opens that his nightmarish revelry is halted. Looking up, he sees his daughter walking towards him. He furrows his brow and waits for her to reach his desk before he asks, "Shireen, what's wrong?"

"Davos didn't say hello," The princess sighs, "he acted like he didn't even see me."

Stannis blinks, then nods, "That is my fault. I sent him to the Maester, and told him not to stop until he reached him."

"Oh," Shireen sags in relief, glad her friend had not simply ignored her. Then she thinks on what her father had just said and inquires, "Why does Davos need to see the Maester?"

"Because he has told me something insane, and I want to make sure his head was not damaged," Stannis tells her

"Really? What did he tell you?"

"That while he was at the Wall, a God visited and allied Meereen with the Night's Watch."

Shireen blinks, and then does some mental geography, "Meereen is on Essos, right?"

"It is."

"On the other end of Essos, right?"

"Correct again."

"Why would Davos lie?"

"I do not believe he thinks he did."

"What?"

"Davos believes he is telling the truth," Stannis tells his daughter, "It is because of that, that I want him examined."

"Oh! Did he bring any proof?" Shireen asks

"He brought a candelabra," Stannis tells her, "Melisandre is examining it now."

"Did he say what it does?" She asks

"Apparently, he was told that if he lights it, the Storm God will create a crack in the world so that she can come and speak with me."

There is a fickle creature that exists, and it is called drama. One of its greatest weapons is the creation of time, and the even more important byproduct of time, Dramatic Timing. Almost as soon as Stannis Baratheon tells his daughter of the candelabra, Melisandre is lighting the wick of a candle that had been stuck into it.

The Red Priestess watched the candle burn a dull red, and then shift with the universe around it into a violent green for an instant before depositing a tall dark haired woman in the air a few feet above the ground.

Melisandre watches as the woman yelps and manages to land on her feet before looking around. The dark haired woman spots Melisandre almost instantly, and the candle with her, and smiles, "Oh, perfect, you must work with Ser Davos!"

"Indeed I do," Melisandre replies after a few seconds in which she has to recollect her composure, "Any may I ask who you are?"

"Right! Hi there, Marian Hawke," Marian extends her hand in greeting, "I'm here to break a hole in reality so your king can talk to my queen."

"How do hope to accomplish that?" The priestess asks

"Well, first, I'm gonna open up a breach into the Fade, then I'm gonna send… i guess we could call it spirit me… into the Fade to find the way to the antechamber in Meereen, and Spirit me is going to break a hole in reality there, and then I'm gonna connect the two parts so there's no intervening space. Should only take a minute."

"And His Highness knows you're coming?"

"Well he should," Marian frowns, "You lit the candle, didn't you?"

"I did."

"Then of course he knows I'm coming!"

"I lit it to see if it would act as Davos was told."

"Why wouldn't it act like I told Davos it would?" Marian asks, confused

Melisandre raises her eyebrows and asks with restrained scepticism, "You are the Storm God?"

"What? No!" Marian cries, "There is no Storm God! People keep calling me a god cause I do crazy stuff that nobody else can do, but I'm not a god!"

"That is good to hear, for there is only one true god," Melisandre nods, "Come, I will take you to Stannis. Do we still require the candle?"

"No," Marian shakes her head, "I'm here, we're all good."

Melisandre nods, sets the candelabra down, and leads Marian from her chamber. They trek through the halls of Winterfell until they come upon the King's door, where they hear from within Stannis and Shireen discussing something. The exact context of the conversation is lost through the heavy wood, but Melisandre recognizes both voices.

She pushes the door open, takes a few steps in, and then waits for Stannis to acknowledge her presence. He does so quickly when he notes the second presence alongside her, "Who is this?"

"She claims her name is Marian Hawke, My King," Melisandre tells him, "And she appeared when I lit Ser Davos's candle."

"So that means you're the Storm God?" Shireen asks Marian, excited.

The Mage turned God sags and sighs, "Fine, sure, yeah, I'm a God. Yippe!"

Stannis stands, "Why are you here?"

Seeing that they were getting down to business, Marian tells him, "Your man Davos asked my Queen if she would speak with you, peace talks, negotiations, all sorts of things like that. Queen Daenerys agreed, so I gave Davos a way to summon me so I can create a breach."

"A breach?" Shireen asks

"Yeah, It's a way to walk halfway across the world in about ten seconds," Marian nods, "I've done it a few times."

"A few times?" The princess asks

"Yeah, first time I did it I helped Tyrion save his wife from some creepy guys with pink Xs on their armor."

"You saved someone from the Boltons?" Shireen asks in excitement

"Yeah, I think that was what Tyrion said they were called," Marian nods, and before she can go into more detail, Stannis interupts.

"So you are here to initiate peace talks?" He demands

"Oh, no! I am a terrible negotiator!" Marian waves her hand in front of her, "Last time I negotiated with anyone, I ended up melting like twenty faces off. I'm just here to make the connection so that you can talk to the Queen yourself."

"And you can do this so casually, how?" He asks

"Magic," is the shrugged response

Stannis thinks on this for a moment, blinks a few times, and then just nods in acceptance. If it came to it, he could have one of his men kill the woman. He was sure that cold steel worked just as well against magicians as it did everyone else.

Seeing his nods, Marian claps her hands together and asks, "Alright, where do you want me to put your interdimensional portal?"


	37. Negotiations

**The Dragon and the Hawke 37**

Where Stannis ended up wanting the breach was a small chamber that looked to have once been a bedroom, but had been picked clean by two successive teams of vindictive raiders. Stannis, Melisandre, and Davos stood on the side of the room closest to the exit as they watched the sorceress stick a clean white sheet to the wall, then step back and close her eyes. They watch with mixed degrees of scepticism and interest as the white sheet is split in half by a line of green, and then a brightly lit antechamber is revealed on the other side of the sheet.

Stannis blinks, and steps away from the wall. He walks over to the sheet and tries to rest his hand on it. He jumps back when his hand goes through, and feels warm on the other side. He turns to Marian and demands, "What is this?"

"I told you," Marian rolls her eyes, "An interdimensional portal."

"And it leads to Meereen?" Stannis takes a few more steps back

"Yeah," Marian nods, then steps through the sheet, "I've gotta go grab Daenerys, I'll be right back."

Stannis stands still as a statue for a few seconds, staring at the doorway in another continent that Marian had just gone through, and turns his head slightly, "Davos."

"M'lord?" The Onion Knight steps to his side

"I owe you an apology."

Davos shakes his head, "No, M'lord. I wouldn't have believed me either, truth be told."

"Still, you have never wavered into fantasy before," Stannis tells him, then he takes a breath and turns to his own sorceress, "What do you make of the mage?"

"She is powerful," Melisandre tells him, staring at the Meereen antechamber in awe from her position near the entrance, "More powerful than I, or any practitioner that I have ever encountered."

"How much more powerful?" Stannis asks, his voice a deceptive calm

"Impossibly so," Melisandre tells him, a terrible curiosity drawing her towards the sheet, she waves her hand through the sheet, and into the room beyond a few times, "So powerful, I would take Davos's word even so far as to believe a divine influence."

"You feel that she is this Storm God, as well?" Stannis asks, his voice now colder than ice. His fears of a second divine quest seemed to be coming into reality.

"There is only one God, your grace," Melisandre tells him, turning back to him, "But I have never run into one so powerful before, I do not know what to think."

"Awe! You guys are talking about me!" Marian smiles as she re-enters the room, accompanied by a dark skinned woman of Summer Island descent, and Barristan fucking Selmy.

"Barristan," Stannis nods in respect to the man. Who returns the gesture.

They had both served Robert for years, and for years they had been two of the three reasonable voices on the Small Council. It was unfortunate that he and Jon Aryn couldn't add Barristan to their investigation, but the Kingsguard was loyal beyond a fault, so they couldn't risk him going to the King when they only had suspicions. If they had added him, perhaps he would have been on the Winterfell side of the sheet.

"King Stannis Baratheon," the Summer Islander, "May I present, Empress Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

"Empress?" Stannis raises an eyebrow, impressed.

Dany smiles and nods her head, then she frowns, "I feel that negotiations would be smoother if we were both comfortable, don't you?"

Stannis furrows his brow, his time in King's Landing had long turned him jaded, and he always searched for tricks when talking to those in power other than himself. After a second of contemplation, he nods, "That would be preferable."

Marian grabs a chair from the antechamber, pulls off the sheet, and drags it through the sheet. She sets it in front of him as Dany sits in a copy of the same chair in the antechamber. Stannis sits as well, and after the pair stare at each other without speaking for a while, Dany tells him, "I do not think either of us want a war."

"No," Stannis agrees, wondering where she intends to lead their talks

"I do not think either of us care for the Lannisters," She continues

"You seem to favor the Imp," Stannis notes, trying to see if she would bite

Bite she did, when she narrows her eyes and tells him, "Tyrion is a valued member of my court, and for all of his father's sins, he has made none."

"But the rest of them you could do without?" the King asks

"The rest I could do away with," the Empress changes the wording

"From half the world away?" Stannis challenges

He realizes how silly his question is when the Empress blinks at him and waves a hand around herself. He just nods, and Dany has the grace not to point out his miscalculation.

Pressing past the monarch's embarrassment, Dany asks, "So, King Stannis, your knight Davos was courteous enough to ask for this meeting, what is it you wish to discuss?"

"How to maintain the peace we both seek," Stannis tells her

Dany nods, "A terrifying conundrum, when we both know that one wrong sentence could plunge us into war."

The assumption that Stannis would be the loser of that war was unsaid, but everyone could hear it. As it stood, Stannis didn't doubt that the Targaryen would win, but he would never let that on, "So, to maintain the peace, we should ally our Houses."

Dany nods, having expected as much, "And who do you suggest I wed?"

Stannis can tell, just from her tone, that she does not enjoy the prospect of marrying for politics. From her posture, he can tell that she hates the idea of yet another somebody touching her without consent. From her eyes, she promises death to those who would cross her.

It is a simple matter for Stannis to shake his head, "We do not need to have a marriage to bond our houses."

Dany raises her eyebrows, "Truly, and what do you suggest?"

"My daughter, Shireen, is to be Queen after I pass," Stannis tells the Empress, "I do not enjoy the idea of her, and my House, losing the throne to the next bidder by way of marriage. I ask that you foster her."

"You want me to foster your daughter," Dany blinks, clearly shocked.

She is not the only one, as both Davos and Melisandre's eyes widen in shock. They even go so far as to lock eyes, and share a look before mutually deciding to hold their tongues in front of Daenerys Targaryen and talk to Stannis about his decision after everything had settled.

Stannis nods, but before he can speak, Marian claps her hands, "Awe! That's great! You're gonna love her, Dany! She's the sweetest little girl you'll ever meet!"

Stannis's advisors stare in near slack jawed incomprehension as the most powerful magic caster they had ever encountered acts like a young lass who found a cute kitten. Stannis, though annoyed by the apparent lack of respect for royalty, appreciates the good word the mage is giving for his daughter.

Dany and the Summer Islander share looks, a sort of indulgent exasperation, before the Targaryen turns to Stannis, "Very well, I will foster your daughter."

"I only ask that you leave this portal open so that we may speak with her often," Stannis requests.

"Of course," Dany nods, "I had been hoping that same thing so we could coordinate with the Night's Watch for when the Long Night comes."

"The Long Night?" Stannis asks, and watches from the corner of his eye as Melisandre stiffens in shock.

"A story I must leave in Marian's hands, your grace," Dany tells him apologetically, "I must return to my people, Marian dragged me from the set time in which I answer petitioners."

Stannis nods in understanding, and rises when she leaves the room. He then turns his attention to Marian, when sits down. His eyes widen when she pulls the Summer Islander down with her, but he quickly recovers and waits.

"Alright," Marian stares off into space as she starts her story, "It all starts when Tyrion's wife Sansa hears her half brother Jon Snow's name…"


	38. Sansa's Name

**The Dragon and the Hawke 38**

Stannis and Melisandre share concerned looks as Marian completes her story. Davos, having had first hand knowledge of the event, holds his gaze on the Mage. She gives him a smile, his gruff demeanor reminding her of Blackwall, back in the few short weeks she had journeyed with the Inquisition. The Onion Knight returns her smile, though a more cautious one. They're eyes turn as one back to Stannis as the King stands.

They watch as he paces from one end of the room to the other, before finally asking to the room at large, "Why did Lord Snow not tell me?"

"I believe he did, m'lord," Davos tells him, "But you dismissed his claim, thinking he was making it to remain a neutral party ."

"Mm, a mistake on my part, then," Stannis grunts, not one to easily admit his faults, but this had been a day of new experiences for the King of Dragonstone. He would have to think on how to proceed, and especially on how he would handle the North now that the issue of the Long Night had arisen. Then he sparks upon an idea, "Sansa Stark is wed to Tyrion Lannister."

"Yeah," Marian nods, not sure where he was going

"I would ask that she write to the Lord of the North and declare her loyalty to the Empress, and the Empress's alliance with me."

"Why?"

"I have had trouble gaining their loyalty, even with the routing of the Boltons," Stannis tells her, "Their dedication to House Stark is extensive."

Marian shrugs, "Sure, I'll have her pen some letters while you get your daughter ready for her trip through the sheet."

Stannis nods in thanks as she pops through the sheet and into Meereen.

Nobody was in the Antechamber, and Jon Snow's office was empty on the other side of the chamber, so the mage exited the room. She quietly enters the Throne room, careful to not attract attention as she makes her way around the edge towards the back exit of the chamber. She notes quietly that Hizdahr is the one speaking to Dany, and his subject of choice included the gains from the still growing collection of gold taken from the nobles that tried to knock them off in the arena not so long ago.

Marian knew Sansa would be in her chambers at this time, the girl had gotten her fill of court life back in King's Landing. While the court was organized, she did things like read, sew, or learn how to kill a man with a hairpin from the handmaiden that Tyrion had hired for her.

Sure enough, Sansa was busy dipping a sewing needle into a sickly violet concoction while the handmaiden gave her quiet instruction. Marian, knowing the danger of sneaking up on either woman, made sure her entrance was audible, if not distracting. The handmaiden looked up and nodded to her while Sansa gently pricked herself in the finger with the poisoned needle.

Marian had asked about that one time, and was told in no uncertain terms to fuck off and mind her own business. She'd taken the hint and left well enough alone. Now, though her natural curiosity was yelling at her to ask all sorts of annoying questions, she held her tongue and slipped into one of the comfy chairs in Sansa and Tyrion's suite.

It didn't take long for Sansa to acknowledge her, giving a startled jump of surprise when she realized who exactly had joined her, "Oh, Marian! How can i help you?"

"I just got finished explaining the White Walkers and everything to King Stannis, and he asked me to ask you to write a few letters to the Lord of the North so that he doesn't get murdered in Winterfell."

"Stannis is in Winterfell?" Sansa asks

"Yeah, apparently when Tyrion and I grabbed you, we threw the Boltons off of their game," Marian tells her, "Stannis was able to kick them out of Winterfell with stupid ease because nobody was actually in the Keep, everyone was out looking for you."

"They thought we were still in the North?"

"If you hadn't done it twice now, would you believe that I could take us all the way across the world in a second?"

Sansa furrows her brow, then nods, "True, you're right, they would never have believed it possible."

"Yep, so no more Boltons in your ancestral family home, always a good thing." Marian assures her, stepping over and patting the girl on the shoulder in commiseration.

"You sound as though you speak from experience, your grace," The handmaiden, a die hard believer in the storm god, notes.

"Yeah, My uncle once sold my ancestral home to slavers to cover some gambling debts," Marian frowns, "Me and my brother cleared them out. Come to think of it, that may be where my personal hatred of slavery came from…"

"You didn't hate slavery before then?" The handmaiden asks, slightly horrified that there may have been a time that the god was not the great liberator.

"Oh I hated it before that," Marian tells her, rubbing the corner of her mouth, "But before that it was more of a conceptual hatred. I hated the idea of slavery, but I'd never run into it personally, so it was always something I only knew about, like part of story before the hero shows up."

Sansa, once a girl in love with romantic tales of heroes, villains, terrible demons, and beautiful princes, knew exactly what Marian meant. The handmaiden, who didn't really understand, just latched on to the knowledge that the god had always hated slavery in one way or another; everything else was ancillary.

Then Marian remembered why she had come by, "Anyway! Letters, you up for writing them?"

Sansa nods, having decided to do so before they had been side-tracked. She slips from her chair, strides over to Tyrion's desk, and pulls a few sheets of paper out. For an hour she pens her letters to the various Lords of the North; she had been brought up a proper lady and thus knew them all, most even by first name at this point due to the deaths of their fathers or other house leaders.

By the time she had finished, Dany had finished with the last of the petitioners and dismissed the court, and her husband had made his way back into their chambers. He had greeted Marian with surprise, saw the concentration on her face, and decided not to interrupt. He had directed his questions at Marian instead, and smiled even more when he learnt that Sansa was playing the political game, at least in some way.

"Tyrion?" Sansa asks when she finally looks up from her work, "When did you get here?"

"Near an hour ago, my lady," the little lion smirks at her and raises his goblet to her, "To the Starks and their return to the political sphere!"

"What!" Sansa's eyes widen in alarm, "Should I have used the Stark name?"

"You did not?" Tyrion asks, surprised

"I am your wife, lord husband," Sansa reminds him, and he smiles.

It had taken some time, but they had gotten their relationship to a good place, where neither felt as uncomfortable as they did at the start of their marriage. They still had not made the leap to the more physical aspects of marriage, but the emotional range of something akin to love was growing between them. It warmed the hearts of nearly everyone who spent more than ten minutes with them, then by the twenty mark they were rather sick of it.

Regardless of emotional fluff, Sansa was afraid she had made a mistake when she had named herself Sansa Lannister, rather than Stark. She had made not that she was Sansa Lannister of House Stark, but there was the chance that doing so would not be enough. Tyrion shrugs, not having much of an answer in him.

It was Marian who came up with the solution, or what could pass as one, "Fuck it. You wrote the letters, told them you're a Lannister and a Stark all in one, and if they don't like it they can all just go… i don't know, do something uncomfortable with large sticks and asses."

"What?" Sansa asks, and Tyrion looks equally confused

"Sorry, I think that got away from me," Marian frowns, "Ignore me while I try to think through what I was thinking when I said that."

Tyrion and Sansa turn to face each other, taking Marian's advice and ignoring the mage. The dwarf pats his wife's side, "As insane as her last comment was, she is right. If the Lords of the North are not receptive to your letter, then as crass as it is, and I am not usually this crass without a few more goblets of wine, fuck them. Who cares."

Sansa nods, picks up the stack of letters she had sealed with Tyrion's wax seal, and steps over to Marian, who was still deep in confused thought, "Here."

"Hm?" Marian blinks, then sees the letters, "Oh, thanks!"

She takes them from Sansa, wishes the couple a nice day, then sets off. Another few minutes of travel, though less quiet than before as she thinks on what the hell she was trying to get at with sticks and asses back in Sansa's room.

Eventually, she makes it back to the antechamber and Stannis's side of the sheet. Shireen, her mother, and Stannis are all there waiting for her. Selyse glares at the mage as she walks through the sheet, but is ignored by the mage in favor of handing over the letters to Stannis, who nods in thanks.

Marian then looks down at the Baratheon Princess and smiles, "Hey again, kiddo! How are you doing?"

"I'm nervous," Shireen admits

"Well that's just natural," Marian assures her, waving her hand and levitating the Princess's possessions in the air, "After all, it's not everyday you get to walk halfway across the world in a single step."

"Haven't you done it six times today alone?" Shireen asks.

Marian smiles, "Yeah, but I'm special. Most people don't break the laws of reality so easily, do they?"

Shireen shakes her head and Marian ruffles her hair, "There ya go, you're about to make history as the youngest person to ever do this!"

The princess smiles, straightening her hair, as her mother glares even more hatefully at the mage. Marian, finally acknowledging the Queen, realizes what she had been going for when she had made her comment to Sansa and Tyrion, "Oh! Sticks up their asses! Like they're stuck up!"

"What!?" Selyse demands in anger

"Huh?" Marian blinks, then realizes what she just did, "Oh, shit, sorry! I didn't mean you! It's just been bugging me for like twenty minutes."

Selyse's squeal of rage was heard all the way in Meereen. Though that really wasn't saying much when it still wasn't heard in the Kitchens of Winterfell.


	39. Army at the Gates

**The Dragon and the Hawke 39**

Word spread quickly that the foreign Princess Shireen Baratheon was staying in Meereen by the grace of Empress Daenerys. If Dany had ever tried to think of a way to show that she could be a merciful ruler, she would have failed in so many ways. But the mere presence of the girl (said to be the niece of the man who slaughtered the Empress's own family), who was neither harmed nor coerced into acting jolly, was proof of her benevolence.

Much like Marian and her growing divinity, Dany was unaware of the magnificent political move she had made, and her advisors were in no hurry to inform her of this development. She proceeded as though the young girl were simply a new member of her court, even going so far as to invite the girl to a few Council Meetings when nothing of true significance was discussed.

Shireen, for her part, greatly enjoyed the new land she found herself in. The smells, sounds, sights, and experiences all wound up inside her and gave her grand new ideas of what the world was really like every day. She learnt that women could work just as hard as men from the sight of the former female slaves of Meereen working alongside the men toiling away at Tyrion's sewage system. She learnt that she needed to speak her mind when she knew other people were wrong when she managed to settle an argument between two nobles who were both so obviously in the wrong that everyone could see it, but nobody else would say it. She learnt this and that, and a dozen other things in only a few short weeks.

By the end of her first month in Meereen, she was as welcome as anyone. She was more welcome than the army at the gates of the city, to be sure.

Dany and Marian stood side by side above the destroyed gates into the city, staring at the army as it poured into the canyon much the same way they had done a bit more than a year past Dany glares at the army, then down at the shattered gate, then to Marian, "Tell me why I didn't have you repair the gate?"

Marian shrugs, "You never asked."

"Your grace," Missandei steps up beside them, "It was because you wanted the Masters to have a constant reminder of the power Marian holds."

"Ah, yes, thank you Missandei," Dany nods, then frowns down at the army again, "I am regretting that decision now."

"Want me to fix the gate?" Marian asks

"If you would?"

Marian nods, and raises her hand, the thousands of shards of gate that had spread and been buried over the last months rise from the ground. They connect in glowing green wires before winding together to form the completed gate. The finished hunk of metal and wood then casually slots into place in the wall.

Dany smirks when she sees that Marian's display of power had stopped the advancing army short. She narrows her eyes and scans the army for some Banner. She sees it after a while, and her eyes narrow at the slight against her.

It seemed that the Targaryens were advancing on her city.

"Your Grace, have you seen the banners?" Ser Barristan asks as he spots them himself.

"I have, and I am not amused," Dany growls, he voice low and angry.

"Perhaps they are loyalists?" The old knight offers

"If they were loyalists, they would have come forth when we first set out to take Slaver's Bay."

"Oh, hey," Marian interrupts, "How are we on renaming the bay, anyway?"

"We're getting there," Missandei tells her, "It is simply taking a while to figure out the message we want to send with the new name."

"We are getting off topic," Dany notes, with a little ice in her voice. Marian and Missandei stop talking as Dany lays her hands on the parapet, "As far as I can tell, they are opportunists, trying to grab what they can now that the fighting is done."

"So we're not going to bother meeting them?" Marian asks

Dany looks at Marian like she's mad, "Of course we're going to meet them, we're just going to do so with care."

"Ah, fair enough," Marian nods

They watch the Targaryen army as it regains momentum, spreading itself out on the sand before Meereen. By the count of them, there were near enough ten thousand to make no difference when they finally stopped coming through the cavern that led to Meereen.

"Marian, do you have any way for me to enhance my voice?" Dany asks, not feeling like shouting down at the army and demanding answers.

"Yeah, sure," Marian steps up to Dany, waves a hand in front of her face, and then splays her fingers out towards the army, "Alright, you should be good."

Dany nods in thanks, then asks, " _ **Identify yourselves, and name why you have come to the gates of Meereen.**_ "

The voice of the Empress reverberates through the city, the canyon, and the cavern beyond. It overpowered normal hearing and demanded explanation. Marian endures a slap in the back of the head courtesy of her wife for making Dany's voice too loud, but the effect it undeniable.

A pair of riders break from the Targaryen army and stop halfway between the city and their own forces. The larger of the pair call up, "I am Jon Connington! Come with Prince Aegon Targaryen to meet with the Empress Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. We bring with us ten thousand men, sworn to the Golden Company. They have given their vows to the prince, and would do so for the Empress as well!"

"Did anyone see this coming?" Marian asks, looking around at the shocked faces all around her. Then she sees Varys looking a little guilty, "Varys? What do you know?"

All eyes turn to the Spider, and the fat man sighs, "Years ago, when it seemed that the Targaryens were going to lose the war, I bought a silver haired child from a tanner for a bottle of Arbor Gold. I swapped the boy with the Prince not three nights before the sack of King's Landing. When all had settled, I shipped the real prince off to Illyrio Mopatis. After a few years he was handed off to Connington and I hadn't heard much since. To be honest, it had slipped my mind."

Dany glares at her spy master, who looks more disappointed with himself than anything else. Varys had been handling a lot of things over the years, most trying had been Petyr Baelish. As much as he liked to think he was still as attentive as he once was, the truth was that the Littlefinger had been a damn hard man to pin down, and even harder to find out the truth when dealing with. The pair of them dancing around each other had taken most of the Spider's attention for years, and things had slipped through the cracks. Things like Jon Connington and Aegon Targaryen.

"We'll deal with Varys's mistakes later," Tyrion tells Dany, "For now, we should meet with your nephew and his guardian."

It takes a few seconds for Dany to come to a decision, and then finally she tells the men below, " _ **Very well, we shall speak in the center of the canyon, where you are now, in two hours.**_ "

"Thank you, your Grace," The young man beside Jon Connington calls up, and Dany blinks at how much he both does and does not sound like her long dead brother.


	40. Loot Economics

**The Dragon and the Hawke 40**

There was a tense silence between the two parties under the tent. It had, as Dany demanded, been set up where Jon Connington and Aegon Targaryen had stopped their horses near on two hours now. The newcomers had been the ones to erect the tent as Dany made her way down to the city gates, which was why she had needed the two hour time frame.

She had slung herself onto a prepared horse alongside most of her advisors, with the exceptions of Missandei and Grey Worm. They had ridden to the newly constructed tent, set themselves in offered chairs, then silence had fallen as wine was poured into goblets sitting on a table between the parties and Dany stared at Aegon. She was looking the man, a year or so older than her, trying to find some familiar visual cues to back up Varys's story.

So far, she had found Viserys's jaw, her hairline, and both of their eyes. On the other hand, here in Essos, that could mean just as little as nothing. The blood of old Valyria still ran hot through some veins, and some families tried to keep it pure in hopes that some form of magic would surface.

She stares at the would-be prince with quiet intensity for five minutes before he breaks, and then she knows that he is related to her. He slams his hand into the armrest of his own chair and demands, "Well!? We're here to speak!"

"Yes, and you have yet to do so," Dany points out. He reminded her so much of her fallen brother in that moment; an impatient child wreathed in the form of a man.

Aegon narrows his eyes, his fist clenches against his armrest, and then releases as he takes a breath, "You are correct. I am sorry. I have been told that I act like my grand… well, your father, I guess… and that doing so is not in my best interests."

"And who informed you of this?" Dany asks, curious, "Marian knows that Viserys could have used a man willing to do so for him."

"I do?" Marian asks, sharing a look with the confused Jon Connington. The man who had gone by Old Griff for half his life shrugs, he hadn't had many dealings with Marian worshipers, and so the nuances of exclamation were lost to him.

"I never learnt her name," Aegon shakes his head, "She wore robes like a red priestess, but was kinder than any holy woman I'd ever met. This was years ago, when I was near sixteen, mind you."

Doing a margin of mental math, that put the unknown woman telling the Targaryen prince to shove a sock in it about a year before Marian had wandered into Qarth, and about when she was being sold to Drogo.

"Did you take this woman's advice?" Dany asks

"I have been trying," Aegon nods, "She wasn't long for the world, sad to say, but a good woman nonetheless. To good women."

He reaches forward to take his wine, raises it, and then takes a sip before leaning back. He blinks slowly, then looks up at Dany, who had taken a sip of her own wine as she toasted with him, "I think I need to apologize again, actually."

Dany only raises an eyebrow as she sets the wine on the table.

"I come to your gates, ask to meet, and all the while I speak of another woman," Aegon snarks depreciative, "That was not my intention. My intention was to bring my army to you, and offer it."

"You wish to offer me the swords of the Golden Company?" Dany asks in surprise. Jon had said as much when they had ridden in front of the gates, but she had honestly thought he was just saying that so they could meet in person.

"I do," Aegon nods, "The Company first learnt of your conquest of Astapor from Illryio Mopatis, who we had been hired by. His intention was to purchase us enough ships to sail to you, but… I will be kind and call them internal conflicts… led to his premature expiration."

"You killed him?" Marian asks

"We did," Aegon looks fairly repentant about that

"And you didn't get the ships?"

"We did not."

"Did you at least loot his place to the bedrock?"

"I'm… sorry?"

"Dany told me the guy was loaded."

"He was."

"Did you loot after you killed him?"

Aegon looks to Dany in disbelief, "I would have thought the fact I killed a man who had given you shelter for years would cause… some kind of reaction?"

"This is a reaction," Marian tells him before Dany can respond, "It just isn't the one you expected."

"Illyrio Mopatis was kind to my brother," Dany tells Aegon after silencing Marian with a glare, "To me, he was merely tolerant. I did not like the man, as he put it into Viserys's head to marry me to Drogo."

"I had heard you were content as Khaleesi?" Aegon asks, shocked

Dany raises an eyebrow, wondering how he came by his information for a moment, and then the answer drifts into her brain; Jorah was still Varys, and probably Illyrio's spy for some time before he had stopped. Her condition while married to Drogo would have been in his letters. She did not like the harsh reminder that one of her favored advisors was not as honest as she had always believed.

As a result, he withering glare directed at nothing landed on Aegon, who thought it was at his insinuation that she had enjoyed her first marriage, "Moving on… Yes, my Company looted his palace to the… bedrock, as you call it."

Marian nods in approval, "Good job! Never leave a slaver unlooted."

Aegon nods slowly, taking care to note that he would have to make sure the Company members had all freed their slaves before they entered the city… if they were allowed. Deciding to move on, he continues his tale, "After Master Mopatis's death, we were unwelcome in Pentos. They asked us to leave."

"Violently," Jon adds, his mouth twisting

"Yes, they attempted to destroy the Company," Aegon nods, then shrugs, "it seems they had forgotten that most of the masters of the city had hired Company men as guards."

"Ooh, did you loot all of Pentos?" Marian rubs her hands together in excitement

"We did not," Aegon shakes his head

Marian's hands droop, "Then what the hell did you do?"

"We conquered the city," Aegon tells her, "And looting a city you own seems to be in bad taste."

"True," Marian nods, "That was one of the problems with Astapor, I had to give back most of my loot in order to get them solvent, and then some of the stuff I'd stolen from Qarth to help them actually pay for stuff they needed."

"I do not think we need another speech about loot economics, Marian," Tyrion notes from beside Dany. After a quick look to the Empress's distant expression, he adds, "Let's let the prince finish his tale."

Aegon nods in thanks to the Dwarf, he may not know the man, but he apparently had Daenrys's ear, so he should be taken seriously, "After the conquest of Pentos, I decided that we would make for Slaver's Bay and join you here."

Dany, having finally dispelled the macabre feelings running through her head, asks, "And you treked to Meereen on foot?"

Aegon nods, then tilts it, "Well, first we made for Astapor, but we learnt from traders that you had already taken Meereen, so we made our way here."

"And you arrived today."

"Yes," Aegon nods

"And you wish to join my Empire?" Dany raises an eyebrow

The prince swallows, straightens, and nods, "Yes."

Dany leans back in her chair, and her eyes stay on Aegon. Once more she assesses him, looking him up and down. She can see her own confidence in his stance, her brother's nose on his face, his curves around the figure, and several other, smaller details that told her that he was family.

And just as before, when the five minute marker passed, he demanded an answer, "Well!?"

She smiles, knowing exactly what she is going to tell him


	41. Dismissal

**The Dragon and the Hawke 41**

Aegon blinks at his aunt, "You can't possibly be serious?"

Dany nods, "Deadly. You came to me, you said you wished to join my empire, and you brought with you an army."

"I fail to see the problem," The prince furrows his brow and turns his head, confusion written all across his face.

"The problem is that I do not trust you," Dany tells him bluntly, "I have difficulty doing so and thus I do not want your army within invasion distance of any of my cities."

"But, we're family?" Aegon tries

"You did not know your uncle, so I will not hold it against you that you did not know exactly how little that means to me," Dany tells him

Aegon, who had been raised to believe that the Targaryen name and family meant everything, was incensed at this declaration. He stands angrily, and slams his hands on the table, "You would defile the family name!?"

Jon Connington steps up to his charge and lays a hand on his shoulder, and in a harsh whisper he grinds out, "Aegon!"

The prince blinks, turns his head to the man who raised him, then closes his eyes and takes a breath, "I - apologize. That was out of line."

"It was, and it draws to mind unpleasant similarities that you have with my brother," Dany tells him. She leans forward, hands resting on her crossed knees, and tells him, "Take your army, begin the conquest of the Grass sea. I may have loved Drogo, but I did not love his culture of slavery. End it as I ended Slaver's Bay, and I will welcome you."

"How would we pay for this?" Jon, ever the pragmatist, asks

"I will supply your men with food, gold, and women if you so require and they are willing," Dany tells him.

"Why are you sending me away?" Aegon asks, nearly begging for an answer

"Because I do not know you, Aegon," Dany tells him, "And I do not know why you came to Meereen."

"I could tell you, if you asked," Aegon offers

Dany blinks at him, raises an eyebrow, and asks

"Because the seven kingdoms are fucked right now," Aegon tells her honestly, "Dorne is in the middle of a revolt, King's Landing is going insane, the Eyrie is being led by a whoremonger, the North belongs to everyone and no-one, and everywhere else is trapped in a state of war. No crops are being grown, no gold is flowing, and there is nothing for me or my men to gain by invading Westeros."

"And coming to me was easier than that?" Dany asks

"It was," Aegon nods

"And thus why I want you to prove yourself to me, you and your men."

The prince sighs, then nods, "I'll tell the men we set off at the end of the week. Will we have our provisions and gold by then?"

"And women!" Marian reminds him, "Apparently there are a lot of single poor ladies in town now that their husbands are dead after trying to pull a coup and I looted their houses to the bedrock. They should be perfectly willing to join you for a warm bed and a good meal."

"That will make the men happy," Jon notes

Aegon nods in agreement. He purses his lips, rurs a tongue over his teeth under them, then asks, "So that is all?"

"It is," Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Empress of the Dragons, stands and nods to him before turning to leave.

Everyone watches her go before Marian plops down on the table looking at Aegon, "Don't take it personally, kid, you just remind her of her brother. From what she's told me, your uncle was a real piece of shit."

Aegon looks up into the wide, smiling face of the storm god, and asks, "Tell me, please."

And so Marian regails the quickly appalled prince with everything terrible that her best friend had told her about the Beggar King Viserys Targaryen. By the end of their talk, Aegon couldn't well blame his aunt for her distrust and dislike of him. He did not like it, but he understood.

By the end of the week, the Golden Company was departing, with its number near doubled. When it had been learnt that the Company would be departing for war, a large number of men and women decided that they did not want to be in the same city as the woman who destroyed their culture.

Most of them were former slavers, though a few were the seriously indoctrinated former slaves that were somehow still convinced that the old ways were better, even if their lives had improved over the last few years.

By the time the start of the new week had come around, the city was just a tad emptier, and the number of complaints that Dany had to deal with everyday during her audiences were greatly lessened.

It was at one of these sessions that she came upon a surprise petitioner, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow.

"Your Grace," he bows his head in respect

"Lord Snow," She returns the nods in equal respect, "What has brought you to my throne? The White Walkers are not making their advance, are they?"

"No, my Lady," the Lord Commander shakes his head, "I come before you to request the presence of the Storm God, my sister, and her husband. All three saved my life on the night Alliser Thorne and his men saw to have me assassinated, and now that I have come to a decision on what to do with the men, I would ask that they be present at the passing of the sentence."

Dany's eyebrows raise and she turns to regard Marian and Tyrion. Both nod in agreement, and with Tyrion, by this point she knew he also spoke for his wife, and visa versa. She turns back to Jon and nods, "They see no issue with joining you for the passing of judgement. Was there anything else, Lord Commander?"

"Two more subjects, your grace," he tells her, "The first is the presence of two people at the Wall that tell me they are searching for my sister. I have told them nothing of how close she is, but I would ask if they know her."

"And who are these people?"

"A woman named Brienne of Tarth, and her Squire Podrick Paine."

"Pod!?" Tyrion exclaims, "He and the Maid made it all the way to the Wall?"

"You know them, my lord?" Dany turns to her advisor

"Podrick was my squire before I was arrested, I dismissed him so he would not be killed with me, my brother sent him off with Brienne of Tarth," Tyrion tells her, "I would very much like to meet with both, when we journey to the Wall."

The issue dealt with faster than Jon or Dany had expected, they momentarily flounder at what to say or do. Then Marian coughs and waves her hand to get their attention, "You said you had two more things to talk to Dany about?"

Jon blinks at her, then starts and turns back to the Empress, "Yes… Your Grace, as you may know, the Night's Watch has taken the criminals, undesirables, and bastards of Westeros alongside honorable men. I wish to ask if you would like to extend this offer to the men of your Empire."

"You would ask for rapists, murderers, and thieves?" Dany asks, not truly understanding.

"The Watch has taken any man willing for thousands of years, your grace," Jon tells her, "Including the men we'd rather not have. We must man the wall for when the Walkers come for us, and we need numbers to do that."

"So you would take the worst that my cities have to offer?" Dany asks

Jon nods

"Dany leans back in her throne and thinks, then tells him, "There are harsh penalties for terrible crimes, Lord Snow. I do not believe joining the Watch is so terrible a punishment."

"Forgive me, your grace," Jon sighs, "But you have not walked through Castle Black. As much as I love it, I will not shy away from the truth that it is a dark and cold place that hardens a man or kills him. Your criminals would not escape punishment there."

Dany narrows her eyes, then asks, "Tell me, Lord Snow, is the offer you extended only for Lady Sansa, Lord Tyrion, and Marian?"

Jon blinks, "Do you mean to come?"

"I do."

"Then you will be welcome, and you will see I speak the truth."


	42. Thorne and Tarth

**The Dragon and the Hawke 42**

It was startlingly cold.

That was the first thought that Dany had as she crossed through the White Room into Jon Snow's office. The Lord Commander quickly handed her a heavy black cloak to stave off the bone chilling wind that blew even beyond closed doors. She took it with thanks, and noted with some relief that she was not the only one to have underestimated the temperature; Barristan too was taking a cloak gratefully.

When he sees her looking at her he can do nothing but shrug, "I've been across most of Westeros with your father and the Usurper, your Grace, but never the Wall. Neither was willing to make the trip."

Dany nods, smiles a bit, then furrows her brow and asks, "Does it make me more for coming at all, or less when I came when it became so easy?"

"Your Grace," She turns to Jon Snow, and the Lord Commander bows his head, "That you would come, regardless of circumstances, speaks highly of you."

"Thank you, Lord Snow," the Empress nods in thanks

With pleasantries done with for the moment, and that small existential crisis cleared up, Jon holds the door open for Dany, Barristan, Sansa, Marian, and Tyrion. They shuffle out, then he takes Longclaw from the table beside the door, and follows. He leads them only a short distance, and they can see why. Just outside, in a large courtyard, twenty men stand on a raised dias with nooses around their necks. Their dias is held up by a series of barrels, all looped with chains connected to a pulley. In front of them is a single rope, which leads upwards to the pulley. Even from halfway across the courtyard, the party could hear the rope groaning under the weight of the pulley.

Dany and her party stop on the balcony that looks over the courtyard while Jon Snow descends the steps. All of them watch, with uncharacteristic silence from both Tyrion and Marian, as the Lord Commander moves through the Black Brothers and Wildlings gathered to watch the deaths of the traitors. They watch as he stops at the rope and then tells the men he is about to hang, "My Brothers, you sought to kill me. I know you were doing what you thought was right. I know you did not relish it. But you broke your vows with each dagger you stabbed me with. All of you are traitors to the watch and will be hanged until death. Do you have any last words?"

He steps forward and listens as each man makes his plea. Some ask for mercy, some for a measure of comfort sent to their families, and some simply try to spit on him with dry mouths or dark words. Only one is calm, the leader of the conspiracy, Alliser Throne just nods at his most hated adversary, "I had a choice, Lord Commander. Betray you, or betray the Night's Watch. You brought an army of Wildlings into our lands. An army of murderers and raiders. If I had to do it all over, knowing where I'd end up? I pray I'd make the right choice again."

"I'm sure you would, Ser Alliser," Jon agrees, and though he cares little for the former Master at Arms, he could at least respect him for standing for what he thought was right. He had done much the same, the only difference was that he had not resorted to assassination to do it.

"I fought, I lost, now I rest," Alliser tells him, "But you, Lord Snow, will be fighting their battles forever."

Jon does not have any response to that, and does not try to think of one. He knows that for all his faults, Thorne was a blunt bastard. After him, though, there was only one man of the Watch left, Olly.

A boy of fourteen, who had conspired to see him murdered, who would have plunged the last dagger into his heart. Jon could barely stand to look at the boy, but eventually he managed it. He wished he had not, for all he saw in Olly's eyes was hatred.

"I wish I hadn't hesitated," The boy whispers.

Jon knows the moment he speaks of; that last moment before he was to die and Sansa had called to him and turned all of the conspirator's heads. Jon's eyes close, his mouth twitches into a terrible grimace, and then he steps over to the rope and draws his sword.

Longclaw makes a hiss as it is pulled from its sheath, the slide of metal on metal the only sound within the courtyard. He takes the sword's grip in both hands, and for a moment that seems to go on for an eternity, hesitates. Eyes all across the courtyard stay on him as he wages war within himself, but in the end, he knew that Olly was not a boy as soon as the dagger was grasped.

And so the blade rises, and then descends, and cuts the life from twenty traitors to the Night's Watch.

….

….

….

It is hours later when the second reason the Mereen party had come to the Wall was addressed. They had been moved back into Jon's office, and were waiting for Edd Tollett to bring Brienne of Tarth and Podrick Payne to them. There is a knock on the door, and Jon pulls it open.

"Your guests," Edd waves the pair in, and in comes an unassuming young man and a woman larger than any they had ever seen adorned in plate armor. There is a moment of silence as the Queen's party assess the pair, and then Edd breaks the silence, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to clean up the shit Thorne and his friends left us as a going away present."

And then the door is closed and Tyrion exclaims in joy, "Pod! Good to see you still in one piece!"

"My Lord?" the young Payne blinks a few times and his head rears back as he realizes exactly who is in the room with him and Lady Brienne, "Lord Tyrion, you're alive!"

"That I am, Pod," Tyrion agrees, and steps over to the lad and his tall companion, "Now, allow me to introduce to you Empress Daenerys Targaryen, Ser Barristan Selmy, Lady Marian Hawke, and you of course know my wife Sansa."

Sansa, for her part, steps up to Podrick and Brienne and smiles, "It is good to see you again Podrick, and you as well Lady Brienne. You cannot imagine how good it is to see you again, and how much I wished I had taken you into my service on the King's Road."

"Everything happens for a reason, my Lady," Brienne tells her, "And while it would have been good to travel with you, it would most likely have led to our deaths at the hands of the Boltons. And though you did not take us into your service then, will you take us now?"

Sansa nods, and Brienne kneels. There is silence as the pair exchange vows, and when they are done, all Tyrion can think to ask is, "So I suppose there's no chance of me getting my squire back, is there?"

The tension is broken by a few chuckles, and Sansa rolls her eyes indulgently at her husband's antics, "I'm sure if you ask nicely enough, she'll think a moment before saying no."

Tyrion chuckles and slaps Pod on the small of his back. Brienne gives him a mirthless stare, raising an eyebrow at the Imp's cavalier attitude. Instead of resorting to pettiness, as had eventually been the case with his elder brother, she asks, "And may I ask how you came to be in the North, my Lord?"

"Oh, that was me!" Marian tells her, waving her gauntleted hand, "I'm also the reason Sansa isn't with the purple X people, and Stannis holds Winterfell."

Brienne blinks, and rises to her feet, "How is that possible, my Lady?"

Marian smiles and holds out her hand, and purple flames spring to life, "Magic!"

Pod, who had been gifted with rather more curiosity than sense, waved a hand over the fire. Thankfully he wasn't stupid enough to wave it through the fire, and so he had the privilege of telling the room at large, "It's warm!"

"That it is kid!" Marian dispels the spellfire and claps him on the shoulder, "And you are gonna have to get used to the heat, let me tell you, cause Mereen doesn't get cold… ever."

"But… Mereen is on the other side of Essos?" Pod asks, looking to Tyrion for answers

"That it is," Tyrion nods, "But what did Marian just show you?"

"Magic?"

"Exactly!"

"Oh, then how are we going to get to Mereen?" The boy asks

"Through here," Marian waves, and the wall shimmers, the entrance to the White Room fading back into existence.

"My Gods," Brienne steps up to the wall and waves a hand through it. She doesn't say anything for a moment, and then turns back to the room and tells Jon, "Lord Commander, I thank you for your hospitality. As repayment, I offer the horses I and my Squire rode into Castle Black on, and all of the supplies stowed in their packs."

Jon nods, "I thank you, Lady Brienne, for the gift, and wish you well on your journeys ahead."


	43. Family

**The Dragon and the Hawke 43**

"Your Grace," Once more Hizdahr zo Loraq stands before the queen.

"Hizdahr, why have you come before me today?" the Empress asks, curious.

"I come to speak of my father, your Grace," Hizdahr tells her, "And ask what is to be done of him?"

"Has he not been enjoying my mercy?" is the return question. Drazik zo Loraq had been the man to arrange the attempted assassination during Marian and Missandei's wedding, and for his crimes he had been confined to his home rather than executed. Many had questioned her decision, but it had not actually been hers. She had allowed Marian to decide the punishment, and the mage had deemed house arrest a good option. Dany had been confused, but went along with it.

"He has, your grace, but my family has not," Hizdahr tells her, which merits a raised eyebrow, "Her holiness has cursed my father with terrible…. Release… your grace."

Dany turns to look at Marian with a frown and the mage shrugs, "So I gave him constant diarrhea, I was going easy on him."

"Indeed you were, your grace," Hizdahr agrees, and then swallows and breathes deeply through his nose, "Unfortunately my father has grown used to his condition and is now instead using it to torment me for my support of your cause."

"Oh," Marian frowns herself, "Want me to come up with something new?"

Hizdahr quickly shakes his head, "Please, your holiness, there is no need! I instead ask that he be moved, and perhaps instead sit in a cell next to Grasso zo Jorros."

"Wow, three months and you hate your dad?" Marian asks

"He has taken a most perverse pleasure in tormenting me," Hizdahr tells her, "I managed it for a month, but it has become too much."

"Very well," Dany tells her advisor, "We will remove your father from your home and place him in the cells. Know that you will not be able to remove him. Do you still wish for him to be imprisoned?"

Hizdahr nods, decisively, and is dismissed.

After he leaves Dany takes a deep breath and then levels the full might of her glare at Marian, who just shrugs unrepentantly. They have something of a stalemate between them but then Missandei tells her from behind the empress, "We will speak of this later."

Marian's eyes widen and dart to her wife's, who looks at her with the cool gaze of a practiced politician. The mage turned god swallows and nods her head meekly.

"Thank you, Missandei," Dany tells her friend, who smiles down at her and nods. The Empress then turns back to the end of the room and calls in the next supplicant. Thus the day, like most others, progress in this manner.

At the end, as the sun falls below the windows and the chamber darkens, the Empress and her advisors break from the throne room and each other to deal with personal matters. Dany and Daario set off to her chambers for a fun evening of frolicking, Barristan retired to his chambers to sleep, Tyrion and Sansa returned to their own chambers and fed Kevan while bickering about books they'd read, Grey Worm returned to the barracks to entertain his men with revelry, and the married goddess took her wife to their chambers so they could have a talk.

"Why did you do it?" was the first thing that Missandei asked, after they had stripped off their day's clothes and crawled into bed..

"Honestly?" Marian lays her head against her pillow and thought, blue eyes searching for an answer in the ceiling, "I thought it was funny."

Missandei lifts her head from Marian''s chest and raises an eyebrow, "I do not find it funny. It would have been better to end the man quickly, than leave him free to plot."

"But he wasn't free," Marian protests, "I had him stuck in his house."

"And how did you do that?" her wife asks

"Well I didn't actually curse him just with a bad case of the shits," Marian tells her, "He'd only have had to go badly on a normal basis if he'd stayed in his home. Instead, every time he tried to step outside, it would hit, and the longer he stayed out, the worse it would have been. He could easily have died from it if he didn't go home."

Missandei rests her chin on Marian's breast as she contemplates this new information, "I will let the matter drop for now. But do not do it again."

"Yes, ma'am," Marian smiles and kisses her wife, which leads to a rather enjoyable evening for the both of them.

Come morning, Marian and Missandei join Dany and the rest of the advisors in the dining room they'd been using for informal council meetings. They ate and talked about the various things that had peeked their fancy over the course of the twelve hours they had been separated, giggled, laughed, and proved that they were more than just colleagues. The communal breakfast had been instituted only recently, by Sansa of all people, who remembered her times in Winterfell when her family had been whole. Gatherings made in good mood were the best form of therapy she could find, now that she had time to let her grief out.

She knew her younger brothers lived thanks to Theon turned Reek, and she knew that Arya lived thanks to Brienne, so now she simply needed to find a good moment to talk to Marian and find out where they were. Given enough time, the surviving Starks would be reunited.

"Lady Lannister," the voice of Brienne, who had yet to fall into the comfortable nature of the breakfast, spoke into her ear, "There is a message here from… Stannis."

Sansa turns to look at Brienne, noting the dark tone that had slipped into her voice as she spoke the King's name. Shireen perks up on the other side of the table and asks, "What did my father send to you Sansa?"

"I don't know," Sansa tells the girl, taking the letter that Brienne held out to her. She breaks the seal and unfurls the scroll, reading quickly. After a few seconds her eyes widen and a massive smile spreads across her face.

"What? What is it?" Shireen asks, excitedly, as the rest of the table silently watches

"My brother Rickon is safe," the lady Lannister finally manages, licking her suddenly dry lips, "He and his guardian were hiding out with the Umbers, and they're on their way to Winterfell!"

"That's brilliant!" Tyrion smiles, "We should be there when he arrives."

Sansa turns her head to him, smiling, and then looks to Dany for confirmation. The Empress smiles and nod, to which Sansa thanks her profusely. Tyrion asks when the boy should arrive in Winterfell, and Sansa tells him, "A week."

"We'd best get packed for warm weather then," her husband tells her.

The breakfast is finished soon after that, in a much happier mood than it had been when it had started.


	44. If I had Three Dragons

**The Dragon and the Hawke 44**

Marian was wandering the halls of the pyramid, wondering exactly what she should be doing with her time. She had already bothered the dragons, talked a bit with Dany, cuddled with Missandei, and bickered with Barristan. She supposed she could go see what Sansa and Tyrion were doing, but then she remembered that they were in Winterfell awaiting the arrival of the young woman's brother.

It wouldn't be kind to interrupt them, really. She could probably do it, but she knew the importance of a loving family, and it wouldn't be kind to interrupt if there was anything heartwarming and intimate going on.

On the subject of intimacy, though one less emotional and human, she should probably start figuring out her enhanced connection to the Fade. It was something she had been putting off for somewhere going on three years now, and looking into the subject seemed as decent a method of curbing her boredom as any. Admittedly, she probably should have started looking into the matter when she first noticed how much more powerful she was in Essos than Thedas, but things had always conveniently come up.

Unfortunately, nothing came up this time, even when she gave it a good ten minutes to happen. With a sigh she made her way back to her room, hoping that every corner would lead to something else.

Because nothing did pop around any corners, she made it to her and Missandei's chambers after only a few minutes of walking. She slid to the carpeted floor, closed her eyes, and crossed her legs, trying to meditate. She sat like that for five minutes before she popped one eye open and frowned. Bethany had always made it look so easy, this meditating business, but Marian had never managed to get the hang of it.

Her ass ached, her back was stiff, and there was a kink in her armor that was digging into the inside of her thigh. She moved to stand, but then she felt the magic slam into her.

"Hold the door?" She asked the air, looking around.

She blinks when something white floats past her eyes, and she turns to follow it. The snow floats around her room, and as it spins in a circle around her she reaches out to catch it.

And then there wasn't just a single snowflake. Instead there was a torrent of them, accompanied by a dull screaming. Marian drops her hand and spins towards the sound, and is knocked off her feet by a girl pulling a sled.

Both mage and girl give startled huffs, and the girl quickly pulls herself to her feet and draws a sword. Marian raises an eyebrow at the sword, and then looks behind the girl towards where the screaming is still coming from.

"What the hell is going on here?" She asks as she watches a large man hold a wooden door against a mob of undead.

The girl gives a startled gasp at the sound of Marian's voice and then tells her, "We need to run! They're coming!"

"I can see that they're coming," Marian agrees, and with a negligent wave pulls the big man away from the door.

There is a startled cry of "HooOodoor!" as the man flies forward and then a thump as he smacks into the snow. Marian waves her hand in a circle and brings it down, and the sky erupts in a falling rain of fire. Ball after ball of burning magic slam into the ground and obliterate the undead that try and rush the large man, girl, mage, and sled.

"Care to explain exactly what's happening?" Marian asks the girl

"I think you'd know more than I would," The girl tells her with the dull expression of one who had seen just about everything that life could throw at you and yet there was just that one more thing that made them think.

"Not the firestorm, I mean the undead that are trying to get through it," Marian clarifies

"They're wights," The girl lowers her sword and sheaths it in the sled, picking up the handles and pulling. As she starts to pull the sled away, Marian finally noticed that there was a young man sitting in it.

"Hey! I know that kid!" She exclaims

"What?" the girl asks, but doesn't stop pulling the sled, picking up speed.

Marian, seeing that the girl would soon be out of hearing range, shrugs and waves a hand; the big man is lifted from the ground and pulled after her as she sets off after the kid, "Hey, what's your name?"

"Meera," The now identified Meera tells her as the firestorm fades from sight.

"Nice to meet you Meera, I'm Marian," Marian tells her, and then flicks her wrist and the sled that the girl has been dragging is lifted into the air alongside the large man, "What are they called?"

"The big one is Hodor, and the boy is Bran," Meera tells her, then furrows her brow, "How do you know him?"

"I saw him talking to an old guy with a tree sticking out of him a few years back," Marian tells her.

"What!?" Meera nearly spins around to demand answers, but remembers where they are and what is behind them, and instead simply turns her head and demands, "You saw Bran training with the Three Eyed Raven? How?"

"I was testing out my ability to open breaches anywhere in the world," Marian tells her, "I went to him and the old guy, an orgy in some desert somewhere, and a dead tree with a bunch of blue men around it."

"What? How?... What!?" Meera has to stop now, the information that Marian has given her temporarily overriding her fear of the wights and their masters. It wasn't that she lost her fear of them, it was just that she could not process her fear and the mage at the same time.

Marian shrugs, "It's a thing."

Meera blinks a few times, then she hears the shrieks of the undead as they started to catch up, and she focuses on the one thing that truly matters, "You can go anywhere in the world?"

Marian nods, and turns to thrust out a hand, from her fingers a wave of sparkling electricity flies and strikes a wight. After that one, the bolt passes into the next, then splits into the ten after that, and so on and so forth until there was a massive and synchronized popping sound as all of the wights at the front of the charge burst.

"Take us away from here! Now!" Meera begs and demands.

The mage turns back to the girl, sees the absolute terror in her eyes, and then presses the flat of her palm against empty air. It only takes her a second to zero in on her most familiar location, the White Room in Meereen, and then her hand sinks into the air halfway across the world.

The breach tears open around them, and with a wave Marian sends Bran and Hodor through the hole. They vanish and then Marian indicates for Meera to go.

But the girl is not looking at her anymore.

Marian turns her head to follow the girl's gaze, and immediately sees the five blue men standing in a curved line, staring at her. The mage tilts her head, "huh, another thing I've seen before."

The apparent leader of the blue men, indicated by his snappy dress sense and the horns popping out of his head in the shape of a crown, nods to her in something resembling respect. Marian raises an eyebrow but returns the nods, there was no need to be a dick to powerful magical creatures that had entire mythologies based off of them after all.

Because what she was looking at were five white walkers.

"Meera, go through the Breach and find Daenerys Targaryen," Marian tells the girl, "I may need her children."

"What!?" Meera demands, completely taking what the mage meant the wrong way.

Marian frowns at her own wording and the girls harsh and startled yell, but instead of answering she blasts the girl back. Meera flew through the air and then vanished through the green light that was the contained Breach.

"You aren't going to let me go without a fight, are you?" She asks

The leader of the White Walkers, she thinks he's called the Night's King, at least gives her the courtesy of a shaken head before he pulls his ice blade from his back. She watches it, and four more like it, come out and frowns at her unarmed state. But she could do this, she had to do this.

He hands alight with eldritch flame as the first of the White Walkers charges her with a guttural hiss. She waits until he is right on her before she ducks under his swipe, then grabs the creature's hand with her gauntleted hand. She had heard what these creatures could do with bare skin, but now was not the time for fear.

She is surprised though when the claws of her gauntlets dig into the frozen flesh and the Walker gives a screech of startled pain. She sees it drop its sword from its hand and she pushes forward with her free hand and her magic, sending the blade spinning off into the trunk of a far off tree.

Before she can capitalize on the unarmed nature of her opponent, though, she has to duck out of the way of another ice sword that sails through where her head had been only a second before. She could tell that all of them were moving in on her, all but the Night's King, who was content to watch her fight his generals.

She was largely on the defensive, ducking, weaving, and putting every trick that Isabella had taught her about combat to use. The swords would sing past her head, under her arms, between her legs, and they would knick nothing but the dragon plate of her armor.

Dragonglass, Dragonsteel, and it seemed that even Dragonflesh was immune to the frozen force of the White walkers, just as Jon told her they were immune to the touch of fire. That seemed to be the theme of the day, she mused as she smacked a Walker away with a telekinetic blast, an eternal battle between the powers of fire and ice.

Really, it all just seemed like picking which you'd rather die to!

As much as she loved Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, she knew that they were more or less monsters. They didn't see people as people, they just saw them as two legged snacks. She didn't know why she and Dany rated different, but they did. With the White Walkers, it seemed, much the same was the case.

All of this was passing through her head as she caught two of the ice blades on the wristguard of her armored hand. The Lord Commander had said that the Walkers possessed unnatural strength, now it seemed that she was much the same, thank whatever god was out there.

With that thought, she pushed the two swords away and caught the third before it could cut her neck, but then she felt something enter her side. She blinked, startled, and then looked down.

The fourth Walker had retrieved his sword, it seemed, as it was currently sticking into her at a very uncomfortable angle. She frowned at the sword, and then looked up at the White Walker. It had a nearly satisfied gleam in its eyes as it tore its sword from her.

She is forced to stumble from the force of the yank, and glares at the White Walker as she stumbles away from it. The other three all step back, content to let her die from just that wound. They'd never seen any creature last longer than a single strike from their blades, so Marian was as good as dead in their eyes.

They didn't spot it, but the Night's King did.

He saw that her stumbling was taking her to the green horizon that she had created and sent their quarry through. He saw in a moment of clarity that she was not actually hurt, only pretending to be. He did not know how it was possible, but he needed to stop her from getting away or closing the hole towards the Greenseer.

But it was too late for him or his Generals, as Marian straightened and smiled at them to the shock of the four minion Walkers. She chuckles and tells them, "If I had a dragon for every time somebody stuck me, I'd be three dragons richer."

Then there is a roar from beyond the green Breach, "Speaking of!"

The Walkers flee, and Marian lets out a sigh of relief before stepping through the breach and sealing it behind her. Standing before her is Daenerys Stormborn and Drogon's face. Marian laughs and pats the black dragon on the snout before asking, "So… who wants to know what kind of day I've had?"


	45. The First Reunion

**The Dragon and the Hawke 45**

While Marian was off saving total strangers, Sansa and Tyrion were trying to enjoy the hospitality of Stannis Baratheon and his wife. It was very difficult to connect the sweet girl that they had in Shireen with the hard man of Stannis and the obviously unhinged fanaticism of Selyse. Both, who had survived in the Red Keep of King's Landing, were at least practiced enough in the art of politics not to say anything unwise to the Baratheon royalty.

The thought being that if Stannis was willing to murder his own brother, he probably had as much a grip on human decency as Cersei Lannister, and that was a score that had gone into the negatives about thirty years ago. As a result, their interaction was one of stressful silences between drinks. Usually it was Tyrion who tried to initiate conversation, but his attempts fell flat against the harsh glare of the Baratheon Queen.

Eventually, they were happily separated from the King and Queen to go to the courtyard where they would await Sansa's brother and the Umbers. They did not have to wait long, thankfully, as they had come to Winterfell the day that the party escorting Rickon was meant to arrive.

The bannermen were seen first, holding high the standard of House Umber as they entered Winterfell two at a time. Followed behind them was Smalljon Umber, who they had not expected to see, as they had thought him killed at the Red Wedding. After Smalljon was a tall young man next to a dark skinned woman, and a direwolf.

"Rickon?" Sansa asks when the party comes to a halt, not truly able to believe that she was seeing her long lost brother.

The boy looks at her, tilts his head, and slides off of his horse. He sets down on the ground with a practiced ease and steps up to her. She holds her breath as he looks her over, eyes tracing every line of her face for some sense of recognition. He doesn't manage to find any and has to ask, "Who are you?"

Sansa, who had been hoping for some recognition from the lad, broke into sobs. She covered her mouth, sniffed to try and gain control of herself, and then tells him, "I'm Sansa, Rickon, your sister."

"Oh," the young Lord Stark nods his head, then smiles at her unsurely, "Well, hello."

"You've got to introduce yourself proper like, boy," The dark skinned woman who had been beside him tells the boy as she sidles up to them. She gives Sansa and small smile and bows her head, "It's nice to see not everyone in 'is family got themselves killed doing stupid things."

"I'm sorry?" Sansa leans her head back and blinks a few times at the strange woman

"Father heads south and gets himself called a traitor, mother goes south and takes a dwarf, brother goes south and gets married, daughters go south with the father and I see only one of them," The woman waves her hand, "By the Gods, if the Fire King hadn't taken this keep, I'd probably be dead cause of your family's stupidity too."

"Whatever do you mean by that?" Tyrion asks

"We were gonna play a trick on the Boltons," Smalljon Umber tells the dwarf as he steps up, "Would mean giving the bastards Rickon, Osha, and a direwolf's head."

"You would have…? Please, no!" Sansa breaths in

"It wouldn't have been Shaggydog," Rickon tells her, "We found a dead one!"

"Aye, lad's good at that," Smalljon agrees.

"I fear I am confused," Tyrion tilts his head and then waves his hand, "You are saying that if Stannis had not won Winterfell, you would have concocted a scheme that involves you handing over the last son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, his caretaker, and a direwolf? And then what, expecting him to believe in your allegiance?"

"Would have waited for the Bastard to gut his father," Smalljon tells him, "Would have been easier to fool that stupid cunt."

"Yes, reports of his… well actually everything about him was disturbing," Tyrion agrees

"Why are you here, anyway, Lannister?" Smalljon asks as they watch Sansa, Rickon, and Osha try and catch up and get some sort of familial report going.

"Supporting my wife," Tyrion tells the Umber, "Myself and Marian Hawke managed to rescue her some time ago from Ramsey Bolton, and since then we've gotten to know each other enough that she can stand the sight of me."

"Oh, I don't know, you don't look too bad," Smalljon notes, "Way I heard it you got your nose taken off when Stannis tried to take the Red Keep."

"Very nearly," Tyrion sighs, "Yet another attempt on my life from the lovely hands of my sister."

"Your sister sounds like a cunt."

"Oh, you have no inclination as to how much of an understatement that is."

"Damn," Smalljon nods, "So how'd you get to Winterfell in time to meet us."

"Empress Daenerys Targaryen has in her employ a Mage of enough power that people think her a goddess," Tyrion tells the northman, "I am inclined to agree, as Marian is able to step through one corner of the world and into another with terrifying ease."

Smalljon raises an eyebrow and looks down at him, "You serve the Targaryens?"

"Just one," Tyrion corrects, "And she rules far better than any King I've had the pleasure of meeting."

"Do you include me in that number, Lord Lannister?" the voice of Stannis Baratheon asks as he steps up beside them.

Tyrion bows respectfully, "I am referring to my nephews, brother in law, and the Mad King, your Grace. You, I have not seen enough of as King in the North to know if you are as good as the Empress."

The King nods and moves towards the Starks while Smalljon snorts, "Well said."

"I try," Tyrion shrugs as he watches Stannis stop in front of Rickon and Sansa.

"Lord Stark, Lady Lannister, we must talk," Stannis tells them

"Lady Lannister?" Rickon asks, looking up at Sansa.

"I'll explain after we talk with the King," Sansa tells him with a smile, and the boy nods. It hadn't taken much effort for her and Osha to get the lad to warm to her, and even less after that to bring out some youthful enthusiasm for finding a loving sister that had been taken from him near half his lifetime ago.

Their attention turns to the king, who looked between them, "Now that a Lord Stark has returned to Winterfell, it seems that it is time for me to start moving my army south. The snows are falling more heavily and we must move before the roads become untraversable."

"Why have you waited so long, your grace?" Sansa asks

"There is a saying, one the castle servants have deemed to share with me," Stannis tells her, and then quotes, "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I do not know if that is true, but there is magic in the old ways, as both your god and mine have shown. Thus I wished to await the return of a Stark to leave this keep."

"Isn't Sansa a Stark?" Rickon asks

"No, Rickon, right now I'm a Lannister," Sansa tells him with a gentle smile, "I am married, and this my husband's House is my own. I am a Stark, but no longer do I carry the family name. That is your job now."

"So I have to stay here?" Rickon asks, "Alone?"

"No!" Sansa hugs him hard, "I will stay with you, as I'm sure Osha will as well, and even Tyrion."

Osha nods silently at Sansa's look, while Tyrion just smiles from his place beside Smalljon. She squeezes her little brother against her and then asks the king, "Is there somewhere private we can speak with each other."

Stannis nods, and waves for one of his men to lead them away.


	46. Dragon Roost

**The Dragon and the Hawke 46**

Daenerys sets the letter she had received from her nephew down on her table. She was alone in her chambers, everyone off doing whatever it was that they would inevitably choose to do. Marian was once more wandering the Pyramid, Sansa and Tyrion were in Winterfell awaiting their brother, and everyone else was dealing with matters that were individually important.

She was fairly certain that Missandei and Grey Worm were having a long overdue discussion about what was and was not okay to stare at while bathing. She had nearly forgotten that conversation, as it had happened more than a year ago. It was hardly believable that Marian and Missandei hadn't talked to him until this point.

But what was more pressing than her advisor's personal matters, was the news that Aegon was having more trouble than anticipated. From his report, he was down nearly a fifth of his true soldiers and nearly half of the volunteers from Meereen were dead or enslaved. It was disappointing, but it was somewhat expected; the Dothraki had ruled the Grass Sea for untold generations and weren't likely to give them up easily.

If there was one silver lining to the matter, it was that she was beginning to believe in Aegon's loyalty to her Empire. Even with staggering losses, he was unwilling to surrender what little land he had taken from the horse lords. He had even managed to get a keep built before the Dothraki put it to the torch. His men were abandoning him in droves, but he stayed at it.

And seeing as he was being stupidly loyal, she should pen a letter to him to tell him to retreat his armies until more forces could be sent to aid in the attempted conquest. Either more men, Marian, or the Dragons, any of the three would be good enough, in her opinion. She set the letter down and nodded to herself, thinking that this would work out splendidly.

The sound of sniffing draws her attention to the window, where Drogon has poked his head through and was blinking at her with gleeful anticipation.

She smiles and stands.

She hadn't spent enough time with her children, as ruling three city states and the surrounding land was incredibly time consuming when you actually put effort into it, and as such she had decided to dedicate the second half of her day to the three dragons. When she had taken an hour to tell her children the news, they had been so ecstatic that she ended up feeling lower than the buried masters.

Thankfully, there would be no interruption to get in the way of enjoying the day with them. She waves for Drogon to pull his head out of the window, and then climbs onto his back once he has done so. She grabs onto his scales, by now the size of large rocks and big enough to act as hand holds, and her grin turns into a gleeful laugh as he takes off.

The two of them are soon joined by Viserion and Rhaegal, the dragons exchanging barked greetings to one another as they wheel about above the city. Looking down, Dany could see all of her subjects, flowing through the city as though it were all one massive ant hill. Her eyes darted from the city, to the horizon, to the countryside, to the bay, and everywhere in between that caught her fancy.

This eventually directed her eyes back towards the Pyramid, and in time to see the tail end of a message that was playing for her. Back when they had taken Astapor, Marian had established a flag system for the dragons so that they could communicate at long distance, and the current signal being sent out was somewhere along the lines of, "trouble, return" repeated over and over again.

Dany furrowed her brow, but slapped Drogon's side twice, and the dragon caught sight of the flags when he turned his gaze in the direction she had slapped. The black dragon grives a disappointed roar and tilts himself, coming in for a slow glide towards the castle. As they were approaching, the signal flags shifted their message to indicate that the trouble was in or near the throne room. More accurately, they said, "Danger, Mother, Danger, Chair" which roughly translated to danger in the throne room to the dragons.

This is why Drogon did not hesitate to smash through the walls of the pyramid in a rush to get to the throne room. His head snakes around in search of the danger, but Dany knows that there could really be only one thing of note near the throne room without her in it, and she slides off of Drogon's back to rush into the White Room.

Inside she finds four people she, three of which she did not know. There was a large man holding his head and saying the same word over and over again, a boy in some kind of sled, and a girl at the cusp of womanhood. Holding the young woman was the only one she knew, Barristan. Drogon, having snaked his head in after Dany, screeches a greeting to the aged knight. He may not be a dragon like mother or Marian, but Barristan smelled like a lot of dead gold mask men, and that merited some respect.

After his roar there is a spark from an untended breach, one just hanging in the middle of the chamber, that soon deposits Marian before collapsing.

The mage turned goddess locks eyes with Dany and Drogon and asks, "So… Who wants to know what kind of day I've had?"

Everyone in the room stares at her, and then Barristan clears his throat and says, "I will admit, I am more than curious."

"Not here," Dany tells them before Marian can start, "Marian, I need you to repair the throne room, Drogon destroyed it in his haste to find the danger the flags spoke of."

"He actually listened to them?" Marian looks at Drogon and nods in appreciation. The dragon nods his head and then pulls back from the doorway so that the humans can exit as well.

Once out of the White Room, Marian takes a single look at the throne room and winces, "Oh, ouch, sorry."

"You did not intend for it to happen," Dany assures her as she steps beside her, "Fix it and all is forgiven."

"Want me to make a dragon roost where the wall was?" Marian asks

Dany blinks, then nods.

The mage smiles and sets to work on fixing the chamber. While the mage is doing that, the Queen turns to the three newcomers. She sees that the woman is trying to get the giant man to grab the sled with the boy in it.

"Hodor, get Bran, we've got to be presentable!" She tells him, and the big man looks up at her, then around, then nods.

"Hodor," He tells her as he picks the now named Bran up in the sled and starts towards the exit.

The young woman sighs in relief and starts to move after her, but stops when she sees that Daenerys is looking at her with interest. She quickly bows in respect, not sure where to go. Barristan luckily keeps her from staying in place by stepping in front of her, "Come, I'm sure her majesty would prefer to hear your tale in a more comfortable location. Tell your friend to follow me, I will lead you to a better place to speak."

The girl nods and follows the aged knight, with the massive Hodor close behind her. Dany watches them turn a corner before her attention moves to Marian. She blinks when she sees that her friend is done with her work. The Throne and steps had been repaired, but instead of replacing the wall Marian had laid it flat and created a landing platform for the dragons so they could come to the throne room whenever they wished.

"Every time I see your abilities at work, I am both more in awe, and more inoculated to the spectacle," She tells her friend.

"I know," The goddess agrees, "I'm hoping that if i show off enough, people will get bored of me and stop thinking I'm some kinda god."

Dany decides that it would probably be best not to inform her friend that her intended goal had been shot full of arrows and dumped in the Doom. Instead she just rolls her eyes and then turns to follow after Barristan and the children, "What are their names?"

"Whose? Oh, the kids? Well the girl is Meera, the kid on the sled is Bran, and the big one is Hodor."

"From what little I saw, he does seem partial to the word."

"I know, can't for the life of me figure out why."

"I'm sure we'll have our answers before long."

"True enough."

The pair lapse into silence for a few minutes as they traverse the pyramid before Dany realizes something and smiles, "I look forward to being there when you tell Missandei you traveled without her permission again."

Marian stops dead in her tracks, blinks a few times, then declares with absolute certainty, "Fuck."

"Go," Dany waves her off, "I will wait until you both have joined me."

Marian smiles, gives her a pair of thumbs up, and then runs off. After a minute she runs back, "Right… where is my wife, exactly?"

"With Grey Worm in the Markets," Dany tells her.

"Oh, uh, that could take a while…" Marian furrows her brow and then snaps her fingers, catching the small talisman she conjured and hands it to Dany, "There, now I'll hear everything near you, so no need to wait up!"

Dany takes the talisman and tucks it into one of her pockets. She had been very glad when Marian introduced her to pockets, which were ordinarily where assassins and rogues hid potions back in Thedas, and now had them in all of her clothes. Pockets were quite literally a godsend.

"Very well, I will learn their story, and when you have finished being told off by your wife, you will join us and explain why you were there."


	47. My Chamber

The Dragon and the Hawke 47

Bran's eyes open to a terrible glare catching his closed eyes and turning his eyelids a bright red before his eyes. The crippled Lord turns his head from the light before he opens them, and is greeted by the sight of Meera laying in bed next to him.

The young lady Reed looks at peace, something that had been gone since her brother Jojen's death. Lines that had become to define her face were smoothed, and there was a healthy flush to her skin thanks to the heat.

The heat was something that he was not expecting, his head launching up as it finally reaches him. He was breathing in air hotter than any he'd had the pleasure of gasping in before, It was wet, heavy, and tasted of sand.

"Hodor," the familiar voice of Hodor turns Bran's attention to his faithful friend.

And like that, everything he had done to the man, to the Raven, to everyone, crashes through his mind. Tears well up in his eyes and he tells his massive companion, "Oh Willas, I am so sorry."

"Hodor," Hodor shrugs, and Bran gets the feeling that the gentle giant had forgiven him long before he had managed to make his terrible mistake.

"Why are you apologizing?" Meera, waking gently, asks.

"It's because of me that he's Hodor," Bran tells her, swallowing heavily, "When we were fleeing, when I warged into Hodor, I was in the past, and he came with me."

"You can travel through time?" A new voice asks, and Bran's attention turns from Meera to another woman, decked in plate and leather armor. She waves, "Hi, Marian Hawke, nice to meet you."

"Truly?" Bran's eyes widen, the Three Eyed Raven had taken him to the new Empire of Daenerys Targaryen before, never to the Empress or her entourage, but to the people and the cities. In all of them, Marian Hawke was worshiped as a goddess, one who acted more directly than any of the other faiths.

"Yep," Marian smiles, then points a finger at him, "So, time travel?"

"I am a Greenseer," Bran tells her.

"What's that?"

"I… experience the world through dreams."

"You do!?" Marian leaps forward and as her face gets right up against Bran's, he feels a prickling in his mind, "You do!"

"What are you doing?" Meera asks, having scooted away from the madwoman who stood against the White Walkers and lived.

"I'm checking his connection to the Fade," Marian tells her before returning her attention to Bran, "This is great! Now I have someone I can teach my stuff to!"

"You are going to teach me?" the teen is reeling at this, truly unsure of how he should react.

"I am," Marian agrees, "Can't do anything about your legs, though, sorry."

Bran, not having expected her to speak of his legs, stutters out, "I… I have grown used to it."

"Ow, well, that's a relief," Marian wipes her brow, "I thought it was a new thing."

"No, I have been afflicted for a long time."

"Ah," Marian nods, then looks between the two, "So, full names? I know you're Bran and you're Meera, but I don't know family names."

"I am Meera Reed."

"I am Brandon Stark."

Marian blinks at Bran for a moment, then stands and steps over to the entrance to the room. The teenagers watch as she pokes her head out the door and tells someone they can't see, "Trod! Get somebody to go to the White Room and tell Lady Sansa that I've found her last brother."

There is the sound of shuffling feet drowned out by Bran calling out, "Sansa!?"

"Yeah! Your sister's in Winterfell right now getting your little brother situated as the new Lord, but… actually… that's you now, isn't it?" Marian frowns to herself and then pops her head out again, "Trod! Tell Sansa we're coming through in a few minutes!"

"I understand!" is shouted in return.

Marian turns back to them once more and claps her hands, then she points to Hodor, "Alright big guy, pick up Bran and let's go!"

"Hodor," Hodor nods and steps over to Bran, who doesn't resist as the giant lifts him into his massive hands and follows after Marian. Meera manages to sneak in front of them so that she can talk to Marian as they walk.

"The White Room is where we came out, right?"

"Yep."

"And we're going back there?"

"Yep."

"Is there a chance the Walkers could come through?"

"Nope."

"Okay."

Her fears assuaged, Meera walks beside the older woman in silence. The strange party of four travel through the castle at a silent lope, traveling down, down, and down again before they reach the Throne Room, where the Empress sits upon her throne listening to her various petitioners. She raises an eyebrow at their entrance, and Marian gives her a thumbs up and then points towards the White Room.

At Dany's nod of approval, Marian pulls her three companions into the small antechamber and points towards a wall, "Through there."

"That's a wall," Bran points out, though he is ignored as Hodor trudges towards the wall without stopping to consider if it was not a gateway across the world. The young Lord of Winterfell winces as they pass through, but when he does not strike solid stone he looks around in wonder, "This is my chambers."

"Huh?" Marian asks, stepping through with Meera.

"This was my chamber!" Bran repeats, his ire coming through, "Somebody removed all of my things!"

"Well, two teams of looters probably did that," Marian shrugs, having lost all of her equipment on more than one occasion.

"Two?" Meera asks

"Yeah, this place got raided by pirates and by Boltons," Marian reminds them, then furrows her brow as she leads the way through the Keep, "Though… are they Pirates if the castle is landlocked, or just raiders?"

"They were seamen," Bran tells her, "Regardless of where they were."

"Pirates it is," Marian agrees.

"What Pirates are we speaking of?" a new voice asks, and the party turns to see Tyrion Lannister walking up behind them. At the sight of him, and he of them, both he and they stop and stare, "As I live and breath, Lord Stark, it is good to see you alive."

"And you as well, Lord Lannister," Bran nods respectfully. Much of his own family's animosity towards the Lannisters was not shared by the young Lord, due mostly to the fact that he had at no time been able to contemplate how he felt about them. Taking a moment to consider it, he supposed that he hated Jamie, Joffrey, and Tywin Lannister, but not the rest. Those three had done the most; crippling him, executing his father, and arranging the Red Wedding respectively.

"My Lady Wife will be truly glad to see you," Tyrion tells Bran, seeing no animosity in the boy, "Come, She and your brother are Great Hall!"

There is an about face as the party turns to follow the dwarf down three long hallways to the chamber he specified. Sure enough, Sansa and Rickon sit at the ancient dining table that the Stark family had had for untold generations.

At their entrance the two stop talking and stand; for a moment there is silence, and then all hell breaks loose as the three Stark children reunite.


	48. Pick Me Up

The Dragon and the Hawke 48

It had been only slightly longer than she had last seen Rickon that Sansa had seen Bran, but she the last time she'd seen him, he had been broken. He was just as broken now, but not in spirit, she could see from the moment she lept from the table and towards Hodor that he had some of the flame that had defined his life in him.

But it was tempered, like it had been in all of the surviving Starks, by experience. What her brother had been through was something she needed to know, and she was determined to get answers. Those could wait, though, because her brother was back with her.

Hodor gently lowered Bran as Sansa and Rickon snap to him, and the three crush together in a massive hug. When they had all been together, none of them had clutched at each other so strongly, so resolutely. They were together again, and nobody would ruin the moment.

Except one of them, of course, as Rickon pulls his head back and asks, "Does that mean you can be Lord of Winterfell?"

"What?" Bran, held up by the combined holds of his sister and brother, leans his own head back and blinks at the younger boy.

"Sansa's been teaching me, and it sounds boring," Rickon complains, frowning.

Bran blinks at him a few more times, then snorts and starts to laugh. After a few seconds to regain control of himself he nods, "Sure, I'll take over for you."

Sansa starts to sag in relief, having dreaded some form of conflict. The lack left her weak with relief, which was not a good thing as was evidenced by Bran's sudden yelp as she tips them both over.

Rickon, having let go when he felt them falling, tilts his head and then turns to Tyrion, "Why'd they do that?"

"When it comes to sisters, I tend not to wonder," Tyrion tells him, "But when it comes to women, I always equate it to a strong emotion."

"I don't know what that means?" Rickon furrows his brow.

"Did Osha not teach you about women?" Tyrion asks, surprised.

"Only enough so I knew not to bother her on the third week of every month," Rickon shrugs

"A wise woman indeed," The Lannister nods sagely.

"You'd better bet your tiny little arse, Lordy," The wildling woman tells him as she steps up behind Rickon, "I taught the little lord everything he needed to know."

"That's good to hear, Osha," Bran groans from the floor as Sansa climbs off of him, "Hodor, pick me up."

"Hodor."

Bran is lifted to eye level and smiles, "It is good to be home."

"It is," Sansa agrees.

"And now that you're home, Lord Stark," Tyrion notes, "I feel we should have some sort of celebration."

"I do not think that would be appropriate," Bran tells the dwarf, "Winter is coming, and with it a dark power."

"Yes, the White Walkers," Tyrion nods, "Preparations are being made for their arrival."

"And do you think whatever preparations you make will be enough?" Bran asks

"We've got dragons, dragonglass, Valyrian Steel, and Marian on our side," Tyrion points out, "I'm certain our chances are better than they would ever have been."

"Stop," Sansa waves her hand, "Tyrion is right, we will celebrate your return, and you will tell me everything that's happened to you since you escaped from Theon."

"Of course," Bran nods as Hodor sets him at the table, "Speaking of, whatever happened to him?"

"Stannis released him," Tyrion explains, "After he captured Winterfell, his guards found the lad thoroughly broken and the King's Red Woman advised that they send him home as a warning and a boon to Balon Greyjoy."

Bran nods, adjusting himself in the seat so he doesn't slip, "So, I suppose I have quite the story to tell, and one just as interesting to hear?"

As the Starks, Tyrion, Meera, and Hodor all settle down for story time, Marian slips away from where she had stopped against the doorway. She had watched all she could stand, and the memories that the reuniting family brought up within her heart felt heavy in her heart as she made her way through the ancient castle.

She'd long ago learnt to push down her grief and self loathing when it came to her family. She had failed to save Bethany and her mother, and Carver had gone and joined the Templars of all things. She remembered when she had finally tracked him down, it had been at Therinfal Redoubt. She had known, from the moment that she had lain eyes on him for the first time in three years, that he had been taken by one of the demons.

She had done what she had to, ended him as he would have wanted her too. Then she had destroyed the fort and all of the abominations within. No doubt the Templars who had survived would tell of the story for decades to come, when a mage had destroyed nearly all of their number in anger at her own brother siding with her enemies. Oh, they'd leave out the fact that most of their order had been compromised, if they stuck to the truth that'd lessen the weight and danger of mages, and they couldn't have that.

"What is wrong?" Marian's head snaps to her left, and she sees Missandei standing at the entrance to the White Room; she had stalked all the way back here and hadn't realised it, stuck in her own thoughts.

The mage smiles at her wife, "Just… thinking of old regrets."

"Do you want to talk of them?" Missandei asks, stepping up to her and caressing her face gently, "It is not often that your burdens reveal themselves so."

"You know that kid I picked up with Meera?" Marian asks, and at Missandei's nod she continues, "Well, turns out that he's Brandon Stark, Sansa's last brother."

"And you, being the kind soul that you are, brought them together?"

"Yeah."

"And it makes you think of your own lost family?"

"Yeah."

"Raise your head," Missandei gently lifts Marian's eyes until they are gazing into her's, "Your family of blood may have been lost, but you now have one of heart. You have me."

"I do," Marian agrees and cups Missandei's face, kissing her gently, "And I am more thankful with every day that passes."

"Missandei smiles, "Come, Grey Worm is preparing to entertain his men, it will be amusing."

The two of them leave the White Room, and make their way through the keep towards a more happy moment than the one Marian had just had. 


	49. Invasions

The Dragon and the Hawke 49

Time moved at a slow pace in the Dragon Empire, at least for the Empress's circle of advisors. Dany lived day to day, dealing with matters of state and planning for the possibilities of her future conquest of Essos, Marian and Missandei spent much of the time they were away from the queen with each other, the Unsullied had finally chosen to be renamed the Scalebound, as the newly forged armor for their forces consisted of at least one piece of shedded dragon scale on the chestpiece. Equally, a new name for Slaver's bay was decided, and in keeping with the beastly theme of draconic inspiration, it was called the Dragon's Maw, or just 'The Maw' for short. People generally agreed that the selection was a good one, as it told those entering, exactly what they were in for.

Yunkai and Astapor were experiencing a similar boom to commerce and peace to that of Meereen. Under the leadership of Krazy, the renamed and last member of Yunkai's former ruling council, the former city of pleasure slaves made its trade selling all manner of depravities to the willing. It also had a very effective silk market.

Astapor, under the guidance of Ser Jorah Mormont, had become something else entirely. The city had always been known for the production of unsullied, and it had always been the first port of call for those entering the former Slaver's Bay. Now, Jorah had turned Astapor into a city sized training camp for the future armies of The Maw. From all corners of Essos, boys were bought from slavers and freed, then offered the chance to join the great army of Scalebound and serve the great Empress Daenerys Targaryen. With the other option being a far less interesting life doing something in agriculture or governance, most willingly chose to join the Scalebound. It also helped that nobody cut their balls off anymore.

The dragons, for which most of this would have been impossible without, spent their days lolling on their new perch beside their mother, hunting in the sea and the wild, and playing with the dire lion Kevan that Tyrion had left in the arena while he was in Winterfell.

Weeks turned to months and the Empire progressed. In the Dothraki sea, young Aegon was bolstered by a series of newly hired sellsword companies and managed to complete the first of the Keeps that Dany had ordered him to construct. Dany was glad that the lad was not dead, and decided that one sunny afternoon, she and Barristan would visit with the Dragons.

This was why the queen sat astride Drogon, looking off into the distance as the powerful beast soared through the air. To her left, Barristan clung to Viserion for dear life, and to her right Rhaegal seemed to take joy in flipping through the air, glad to not have to carry his own passenger.

Their journey was not a long one, only a few hours compared to the days it would have taken had they been on horseback. Thanks to this faster form of travel, they spotted a battle between the armored men of Aegon's forces and the riders of a Dothraki horde. Drogon flew over the clashing armies before Dany can think to give him a command, and as she soars above the mass of writhing bodies, she concludes that the Dothraki are losing the engagement. It was probably not obvious to those on the ground, but the armored riders were clearly gaining ground through blood and force.

Dany issues a few commands in High Valyrian to Rhaegal, and the green dragon veers away from his brothers towards the battle. To the back line of the Dothraki, his breath turns the world to flame. It takes only one pass through the lines for the horse lords to be routed, and those that can quickly break from the battle and flee.

When the area is clear, something that takes near an hour, Dany tells Drogon to land in an open area that was being set for her and her sons. The black dragon slams into the ground as he lands, sending up dirt, dust, and some body parts as he crashes into the earth. The horses around them whinney and cry in panic, biting at bits and stomping the ground. The men atop the horses are not much better, though they hide their own unease.

"Empress!" At the call Dany turns her head to see Aegon waving, stepping closer. He'd dismounted and his horse was being held by Jon Connington, "What brings you this far east?"

Dany slides easily from Drogon's back, and Barristan steps up next to her. He hadn't managed to dismount gracefully, but he hadn't made a fool of himself. She smiles at Aegon, "I am here to see the last of my family, Aegon"

The commander of the Brave Companions blinks and then furrows his brow. The last time they had spoken in person, the Empress had been less than accepting of him, and even less so of his familial ties with her. The confusion was clear as day upon his face, so Dany chose to explain, "Recent events at the capital have forced me to reevaluate my regard for family."

"You mean the Starks?" He asks, word of the three siblings reunion having been spread all across the Maw and beyond.

"I do," She agrees, "I have seen how close, how loved, they are, and it made me sad to think that there was a chance that I was passing up the chance to experience the same thing with a member of my blood."

"I am glad to hear that," Aegon smiles, his smile shy and a little unsure of how long she would be in such an emotionally accepting state.

Seeing the hesitation, Dany tells him, "This was not a spur of the moment trip, Nephew. I came to the decision to visit some weeks ago, but held off until the wind and the sun favored the trip. In that time I have thought of this often."

"So, do you ask me to return with you?" Aegon asks, confused, "If so, I cannot simply abandon my men."

"No," Dany assures him, "Of all I have had Varys gather of you, I know that you love your Companions, and they you. Instead, I will leave you Rhaegal, and he will assist you in taking the Dothraki sea all the faster, and visit me in Meereen when you are able."

"You would part with one of your dragons?" Aegon blinks in shock.

"I have asked him if he would do this, and he is more than willing to aid his cousin," Dany tells him, and turns her head to the green dragon.

From where he sits beside Drogon, Rhaegal nods at the blood of his mother. The shiny armored one called Egg-On may not have proved himself as well as mother or Marian, but he was of Mother's blood and brood, thus he must have some of her qualities, and he must have her respect to ask her son to aide the Egg-On. As an added bonus, the men who smelt of horses often road them, and horses were a treat that Rhaegal had not been able to enjoy for several years.

Aegon, seeing the agreement from the dragon laughs in joy and relief before turning to his men, "Hear that boys!? We've got ourselves a new Companion!"

The army around them cheers in glee, even those that had abandoned Meereen when the offer was made. Months facing the Dothraki had tempered them into a unified force, and as much as the former slavers hated the Empress, they could always appreciate the power of a Dragon on their side.

The army began to disperse to collect the corpses for burning and looting, and left Dany and Aegon alone with Jon, Barristan, and the dragons. Jon and Barristan, who had been friends and comrades decades ago, fell into old talks as the two Targaryens spent the rest of the afternoon talking and getting to know each other better.

The sun was starting to set by the time they parted ways, with Aegon needing to head back to his new Keep, Foothold, and Dany needing to get back to Meereen. Though the Keep name was nothing to write home about, the men of the Companions had still not managed to agree on what it should be called. All that the men knew was that the name was rather bad, but it was better than one of the other first suggestions, Horse Hoof.

Dany and Barristan took to the air upon Drogon and Viserion, and their journey back was just as eventful as the one that took them. That is to say, all that happened of interest was a slight bump in the air that nearly made Barristan lose control of the contents of his stomach. Luckily the turbulence was weak and did not last longer than a moment before they were through it and back within sight of Meereen.

The city glowed in the black of night, torches flickering across the city, and the flaming stones striking the Pyramid definitely brought the whole thing together nicely. Dany, seeing her city under seige, could do nothing but sigh and squeeze the bridge of her nose before ordering Drogon to land on the perch beside the Throne room.

He and his brother landed heavily, and not a moment later Dany and Barristan were storming into the Throne Room. Inside it Marian, Grey Worm, Missandei, Varys and Daario were all talking over a war table. They noticed her and as one turned.

She decided to jump straight to the point, "Why is my city under siege?"

Marian threw her hands up into the air, "Apparently, The slavers of the Free Cities don't like what you've got going on here!"

"And why aren't you destroying their ships?" Dany asks, curious as to why her god wasn't smiting their attackers.

"The ships are protected by some strong magic," Marian tells her, "From what Varys tells me, the sorcerers of the Free Cities all basically follow a god called R'hllor, who has all of his preachers proclaim that he's the one true god of the world. Now I wouldn't argue too much with it, but seeing as his people are trying to kill us, we've got a problem."

"So the Red Priests and Priestesses are countering your magic?" Dany asks.

"Shielding, more like," Marian corrects, "Their ships are protected, from what I've seen of the folks I turned to lightning rods when they tried to sneak into me and Missandei's chambers, the people are not as well protected."

"But they are protected?"

"Yeah, but not from conventional steel. They die as easy as anyone else if you stick a blade through them."

"I take it that is how you killed them?"

"No, I overpowered their shields, Daario stabbed them."

"Ah, so you can break their protections?"

"Yeah, but it'd take more time than we have. The battle would be decided before I managed to break their protections."

"You've been able to power through things before?"

"Yeah, but I haven't gone up against another mage in about four years."

"Why does that matter?"

"You run into a situation where you think you're the best at something, but only because the people you're up against are woefully incompetent?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Oh…. well that's what I'm facing. I've been using my power against people with absolutely no experience in magic, and now I'm up against people who are at least moderately good. I'd say circle mage level good."

"The mage schools from your homeland…. How do they compare to you?"

"Still won't last long, but the time I focus on them means that there's less time I can focus on the invaders."

"Focus on them," Dany tells her, "Counter their magic, stop it if you can. Daario and Grey Worm will be able to handle the more human adversaries."

Daario bows his head at her confidence and Grey Worm nods. The Commander of the Scalebound turns to Marian, "You will destroy their magic, we will destroy their men."

Marian nods, "Alright, good luck to you guys."

"And to you, Lady Hawke," Daario agrees, and he and Grey Worm set off.

"Your Grace, what shall you be doing?" Varys asks.

"I shall be here," Dany tells him, "As much as I dislike not helping, Drogon and Viserion have been flying for near the full day, and I do not want to risk my children being harmed by magic again."

"Wise," Varys nods his head.

"Thank you, Varys, are your little birds equipt to handle any attempts to breach the city by stealth?"

"More than equipt," the Spymaster assures her, "And I'm sure they will have great fun with it as well."

Dany nods, and then moves to set herself on her throne. She sits and leans back, sighing in frustration at being once more at war with the Slavers, "When this is over, every Free City that sent ships shall burn." 


	50. The Maw

The Dragon and the Hawke 50

He knew mother would be angry with him when he returned to his perch, but Viserion knew, just like his brother, that a chance like this would never come again. There were thousands of men trying to raid his city, attack his mother, and kill her allies, this would not be allowed. The White Dragon did not care if he had to set the waters afire alone, he would not let them destroy his home, and Meereen was his home. He had lived in Meereen longer than any other place, and he had grown accustomed to the people, the climate, and the food that was brought to him and his brothers. He even liked the giant growly creature called Kevan that had joined them in the sand nest they all slept in. He would not allow his nest to be destroyed, which was why he was comfortable sailing through the skies behind his brother.

Soaring over the Maw was not a new experience for Drogon, he had mapped the area so well that even in the densest fog he could find his way around. What he had around him now was not fog, it was battle. Something in his blood screamed with the men he set aflame, but in exhilaration.

He had never been in pitched battle, never soared so quickly that balls of fire aimed at him simply missed, never truly expelled the fire in his belly. Beneath him, humans cooked to ash, past the point of taste and into an unpleasant crispy crunch. Drogon did not understand why humans enjoyed their crisped pig creature, but the sounds of enjoyment that they made put him of mind when he ate entire cows.

Thoughts of cows and feasts whirled through his head as he bit into a man not quite so crispy as the others. The squealing biped screeched in pain and horror at being devoured alive, but honestly, what had he expected?

The entire fleet sailed straight into the waiting and eager jaws of death, what with Mother, Marian, he, and his brother. It was a shame that Rhaegal was not with them, the green brother would have enjoyed setting fire to the ships. Viserion was fun to fly with though, so they circled the fleet, which had abandoned its siege and instead writhed towards the shore. Ships slammed into each other, men fell into the water, and the screams of the dying penetrated the air.

It was great fun for Drogon and Viserion, who took pleasure in plucking drowning men from their watery graves and then feasting a bit before throwing the now dead men back on their friends. It wasn't pretty, admittedly, but if there was one thing that Marian had taught the boys, it was that pretty things were for when people weren't trying to kill you.

And the men in their ships were trying to kill the dragons, even if they were doing a piss poor job of it. Catapults were too slow to strike them, and arrows clattered off of their scaled hides. Even shots at the weak membrane of the wings failed to penetrate, though that was because of Marian more than the Dragons being badasses. The mage had spent years imbuing magic into the boys, mostly to make them actually intelligent, but also to help them grow into indestructible tanks.

They were so tough, hardy, and not to mention massive, that when they slammed into the water, they overturned the warships with just their splashes. What would have been ripples in the water for lesser creatures were tidal waves of death for the unfortunate slaves and slavers of the attacking fleet.

While the Dragons were enjoying their revels out to sea, the Scalebound were facing the survivors on the beaches. As much fun as the massive beasts had laying waste to the fleet, the sailors and slaves were unwilling to perish so easily.

Men tore themselves from the water and towards the city, knowing that the way behind them was blocked with no chance to escape. They rushed from the tide, and without care threw themselves upon the spears of the scalebound. They crashed, every one in ten men impaling himself on a pointed stick in his hurry to escape, but that did not stop them soon enough to cease the charge.

The near drowned men clashed with the Scalebound, forcing most of the first line of former unsullied to drop their spears and draw their swords. The melee was joined with ferocity, with blades singing as they passed through the air, men screaming in each other's faces, and the splashes of the drowning and the dying.

Grey Worm, having joined his men, issues calm orders from the back of their formation. It was not due to any form of cowardice or hesitation to join their ranks that he was in the back, merely the fact that he had arrived to the battlefield after they had already formed lines. He could issue orders from any place in his army, as had been trained into him since the removal of his balls. He could order, and he could fight, and he was itching to fight and sink his blade into the masters of the Free Cities.

His eyes narrow at that thought, and he seeks out one of his men to issue an order, "Trod!"

Trod Underfoot gives a yell as he bisects a man to indicate that he has heard his commander. Dodging another and slapping the man's legs out from under him to send him tumbling face first into the water, he waits for his new orders as he drowns the downed man while blocking another's sword.

"Take one alive," Grey Worm orders, "Our Empress must know who sent them."

It was not just Trod who gave the agreeing shout, but the entirety of his platoon, and like a well oiled trebuchet, they switch gears within seconds and suddenly every man who breaks through the first line finds himself divested of his hands and thrown to the Scalebound further on.

The pained screams of the now disarmed prisoners reverberates much more loudly than the screams of the dying, for they lasted longer and were more of pain than horror. With the added screams of pain, he madly advancing men coming from the sea slowly come to a stop, their fear of whatever is causing such agony over-riding their fear of the Dragons for long enough that the Scalebound are able to reform their lines.

Behind the Scalebound, Trod underfoot drags a man who isn't bleeding as terribly and possesses both of his hands still towards the city.

Inside the city, the Sons of the Harpy try to reclaim what they think of as theirs. They had remained silent since the failed coup at the arena, choosing to shore up their numbers rather than wipe themselves out in another foolish attempt at killing the Empress. They had managed to grow their numbers somewhere into the thousands by the time that the fleet began its attack. Sons of the Harpy flooded the streets as best they could as soon as the battle was joined, and for close to ten minutes that had been able to enjoy themselves in any way they wished.

This naturally ended when Daario Naharis stuck a rapist through the heart with one of his blades. The scene of revelry, debauchery, murder, and rape that was taking over one of the market squares within the city ends quicker than it started. The sound of the dead man slapping into the ground and the young woman's screams bring the attention of the Sons to Daario, who smiles and twitches his blades in challenge.

Beside the former sellsword, Barristan Selmy scowls at the terrorists, and his own blade is raised, ready to strike. The old knight may not be as spry as he had been in the days of Robert's Rebellion or the War of the Ninepenny Kings, but as he had proven with Marian, he was as deadly as he ever was.

The Sons, seeing two of the deadliest warriors in the Empress's armed forces, are quick to drop their victims and bring their own weapons to bear. There is a tense moment of silence, the smog of unease spreading through the square as each side assesses the other. The two hundred plus men of the Sons of the Harpy against two of the deadliest men to ever live.

It was clear from the start, who would break first, and the weakest of the Harpies did not disappoint. The Harpy, a terrified and angry young man behind the expressionless mask, finally gave to his fears. The sound of piss dripping to the ground draws many eyes to him, and then they follows him as he finally gives the fight up before it even begins and rushes from the square in the opposite direction of Daario and Barristan.

The two warriors exchange looks and snort in amusement at the sight, and are even more amused when the second, and then the third, and so on until only about twenty of the bravest or stupidest Harpies remain in the square.

It is then that the actual battle begins.

Barristan lowers his sword until it is even with his eyes, and as the first of the twenty Harpies leap at him, he steps back and brings his blade down in a quick downward slice. The Harpy's arm is taken off at the elbow and he begins to scream. Barristan's swing back upwards, returning his blade to its previous position, takes the screaming man's head off and ends the sound.

One down in two swings of a blade, and nineteen men left to die.

Though three of them would not die against Barristan or Daario, for they flee at the sudden and efficient death. Daario does not give the rest time to flee, leaping forward into a run towards his closest adversary. The Harpy attempts to grab up the woman who he'd been enjoying before the interruption and use her as a human shield, but the woman kicks and cries, and distracts the man enough that only the cool slide of steel against his throat reminds him of the danger of Daario Naharis far too late.

As the man's life blood squirts out of his neck, Daario turns to catch a blade coming towards his back. The dagger tings against his own sword, and the blades lock. Daario, more equipped than the man who attacked him, uses his second sword to stab the Harpy through the eye hole of his mask.

Three of seventeen are now dead, and the steady advance of Barristan Selmy promises the rest of the Harpies in the square that soon their number will dwindle all the more. Two more of their number turn to flee, leaving the rest of them to their fates.

What the fleeing Harpies are subjected to is not truly any better, for they are quick to run into the city guard, who make short work of the pair of them. This fate had befallen all of the Harpies, one way or another. But there was no place in Meereen for the fear mongers anymore. People rose to fight back when they came, the guard slaughtered them where they stood, and even the women that they chose to violate would grab their own daggers and slit their throats if they had the chance.

Meereen was not welcoming the slavers.

The only slaver that could be said to be welcomed, would be the man dragged into the Throne Room of Daenerys Stormborn, Empress of the Maw, by Trod Underfoot. The man was shivering in fear as he knelt below the silver haired ruler, awaiting judgement. Dany staring down at him, decides on the easiest question first, "What is your name?"

"Trout, Mistress," The man tells her.

She sighs, with his name and his response knowing the man to be a slave, "Peace, trout, you will not be punished for what your masters forced you to do. All I need are answers."

"Answers, Mistress?"

"Yes, who is behind this fleet?"

"I was owned by a fisherman in Volantis, Mistress," Trout tells her, "And did not sail far when I was sold to the fleet."

"Do you know why my Empire is being attacked?"

"You spread freedom, Mistress. Your god preaches freedom. Master Frexis said you and your God were a threat to the Free Cities and the Lord of Light."

"The Lord of Light? The Red Priests are trying to kill me?"

"Yes, Mistress, Master Frexis was a Red Priest, and he said that those of the true faith were joining the battle."

Dany leans back in her throne, staring down at the downtrodden slave, and nods to herself, "Trout, you will be given a chamber to clean yourself in, and new clothes to wear. They will serve you better than your rags. When this battle is over, you will be free to do as you please, and if you so wish, my advisor Mossador will find you employment within the city. Trod, please take him."

Trod nods, and far more gently than when he entered, escorts Trout out of the Throne Room.

Dany stays in her position for several hours as the battle rages in the city beyond. She knows that her forces will win. She has Dragons, Marian, the people, and everything else that mattered in a fight. The fleet of Volantis was already burning tinder in the water, the soldiers already drowned or dead by the might of her Scalebound, and whatever Slavers tried to creep through the cracks within the city would be dealt with by Daario, Barristan, and the city guard.

She knew that Marian was countering any magics that the red priests tried to throw at her, and she was sad to see that Marian and Varys had been proven right in that regard. She had not intended to go after the Free Cities so soon, but it was clear that they were not going to let her be, thus she could not let them be.

From Varys, she knew that Pentos was still under the control of Aegon's interim government, and that through fear they were deferential to her rule. She would have to make use of them far sooner than she had planned, it looked like.  
"Hey Dany!" Marian steps into the Throne Room, "There's a second fleet coming towards the Maw."

Dany raises an eyebrow, pinches the bridge of her nose, and then sighs out, "Let's hope they're smarter than our friends from Volantis." 


	51. Stormy Conversion

The Dragon and the Hawke 51

"So, that happened," Dany mutters, staring up at the canopy of her bed.

She shifts in her sheets so that she is more comfortable, thinking of everything that had happened the day before. The most notable thing, naturally, was the victory against the forces of the Free Cities. Drogon and viserion had made short work of the fleet, a good portion of it being burnt before they started smashing themselves apart in their haste to get to either the shore or out of the Maw.

While her Dragons were having fun with the fleet, her men were making merry work of the last Sons of the Harpy, not to mention whoever managed to get to shore from the invasion fleet. Daario, Barristan, and Grey Worm had all reported a complete victory over the enemy, which was nice, even if her men had also died.

Of her near twenty thousand men, four had perished. Four thousand men would not wake in the morning, merely sleep eternal. It was not a pleasant thought, knowing that she had sent those men to their deaths. She knew that it was for the sake of Meereen and the Dragon's Maw, but every life lost was a tragedy all on its own.

Four thousand men dead, and perhaps even more slaves that had been bought and chained like the unfortunate Trout, who had treated her like he would a Master.

Thinking of Trout also brought to mind the second fleet to come into the Maw, the Greyjoy siblings.

When Marian had told her that they were approaching the Maw, she had thought that the Dragons would deal with them. When that was not the case, more to do with the fact that they hadn't actually approached more than ten leagues from the fallen fleet of the Free Cities than that they were flying the flag of peace, She had sent for an envoy.

She'd received a brother and a sister in her Throne Room, Theon and Yara Greyjoy. She had not expected either, but especially not the first. Sansa had told of her experience in Winterfell with the Boltons several times, and she had told of the broken man who had been her brother's childhood friend and later betrayer.

She had made mention of this, and Theon had not defended himself, merely expressing his gratitude that Sansa was safe in her hands rather than with the man who had destroyed him. She had thought to ask about how he had escaped, but it dawned on her that she already knew the answer. When Stannis and his army had taken the ancestral home of the Stark family, he had found Theon left to the Bolton's hounds. Melisandre had saved him, for what purpose was unknown, but the King had chosen to let the broken man go. Dany had learnt all of this from various conversations with Sansa and Stannis, but had not put them together until now. Theon was not the interesting character presented to her, though; much more interesting was the sister. Yara, from the first words that they spoke to the last, did not hold her in deference as an Empress, but as an equal. She saw Daenerys Stormborn as a woman who took what she wanted, and respected her for it. It was nought to do with lands or titles, for as the Greyjoy saying went, she had paid the Iron Price for everything she possessed.

They had quickly come to an agreement. As they were not enemies and held no quarrel, it was an easy thing to manage. The Greyjoys wanted their home back from their uncle Euron, a man who sounded simply detestable, and Dany had no problem with this. They wanted to rule their own lands, again Dany had no problem with this; from everything that she had heard, the Iron Islands were desolate places good for fishing and mining, but not for much else.

It explained their enthusiasm for reaving, but that was something that she would not allow if she were to come into power in Westeros. She told Yara as much, and though the woman had not seemed pleased, she had understood. The Ironborn were like the Dothraki of the oceans, set in their ways of raiding and raping, but Dany would force a change on them for the betterment of her people.

Those who did the raiding and raping may not enjoy the change, but Dany always felt that a willing bed partner was always better than an unwilling one. She remembered her first marriage well in that regard.

Beside her, the sheets shift and the head of her companion peeks up from a pillow, "Did you say something?"

"Considering yesterday," Dany admits, closing her eyes as hands begin to roam.

"Mm, so do I, care for a repetition?"

Dany rolls her eyes and turns her head to catch her companion's lips, "I cannot believe I converted to the Andrastian side."

"The what?" Yara Greyjoy leans her head back.

"It is a term that Marian brought from her homeland," Dany explains, climbing on top of Yara as she had done to Doreah years ago, and the woman beneath her only hours ago, "She used it to explain her affinity for both men and women."

"Ha, seems fitting a storm god would let her passion be taken like the wind," Yara laughs as she bucks upwards.

Dany laughs, "And why she was so fond of Missandei."

"Aye, storms are calmest in the summer," Yara agrees.

No more words are exchanged, and the morning passes quickly as they entertain themselves. It is only as midday filters in through the windows that they decide that the time has come to climb from the bed.

It is in the middle of dressing that Daario enters the chamber. He stops at the doorway, looks between the two half naked women, and nods in appreciation at them both before he turns his attention fully to Dany, "your Grace, it is time to deal with the prisoners."

Dany turns her gaze to the window and nods, "Of course, tell Marian and Barristan that we shall be down in a few moments."

Daario bows his head and exits. After he is gone, Yara raises her eyebrow at the Empress, "He seemed cavalier towards seeing his Empress in the buff."

Dany shrugs, "He has seen me naked enough to have seen it all by now."

"What, everywhere?" Yara snorts, "Brave of ye."

"You seemed to like it."

"Aye, but I wasn't taking a prick!"

Dany laughs as she finishes tying her dress together, and then steps over to Yara to help her fasten her armor on, "I will tell you that I never intend to do it again."

"I'd have thought your Horselord would have been the one," Yara notes as they leave the chamber

"Drogo was many things, but he was not adventurous," Dany sighs, "I near had to force him to try anything new, once I became comfortable with him."

"I imagine it wasn't easy, being with him," Yara frowns, "My father tried to peddle me off to a favorite captain when I was a lass, I gelded the bastard and threatened to do the same to him. Never tried again."

"I was not so confident," Dany confesses, "It was only from Drogo that I gained my strength."

"Explains why you named the Black One after him," Yara notes

"I named all of them after the men who shaped me," Dany agrees, "Drogo, for what I mentioned, Viserys for teaching me that not even family is sacred, and Rhaegar for plunging the land into civil war and forcing me to live my life in exile."

"You're not to fond of your brothers, are you?" Yara snorts

"You are barely fond of yours, and he did not ruin your life," Dany points out

"Fair enough."

Their conversation drifted across several topics, slowly away from the failings of family and on towards the future. When they exited the Pyramid, climbed their horses, and started their trot towards Marian's prison camp, they were talking of the future, "What do you mean you don't intend to take Westeros? Why'd we make this deal if you're never crossing the Narrow Sea?"

"Stannis has proven himself a man worth at least a chance," Dany tells her, "So I will not rob him of it. And I will keep my word and help you reclaim your home. I have three Dragons and a Goddess on my side, and Marian can travel the length of the world with only a snap of her fingers."

Yara blinks, "The length of the world?"

"Yes, she's set permanent portals to Winterfell and Castle Black in Westeros, not to mention the portals to Astapor and Yunkai," Dany explains, then furrows her brow as she tries to remember if there are any that she had missed.

Yara, meanwhile, was wondering if it was too late to convert. As much as she loved the Drowned God, her deity couldn't act on the mortal realm outside of the oceans. And as far as she could tell, he did not favor her. So the thought running through her head as they approached the prison camp was somewhere along the lines of 'what have you done for me now?'

With this latest conversion to the religion that had sprouted up around Marian Hawke, the goddess in question was standing in front of nearly three thousand poor souls awaiting judgement. At the sound of approaching horses, she turns on her own saddle to see Dany and the self proclaimed Queen of the Iron Islands.

She wondered if there would be a wedding soon, because she could just feel the tension between those two rolling off of them. It was like watching Fenris and Anders again, only without the deep seeded hatred for what each other stood for. Instead, there was only the mutual respect and the willingness to travel along both sides of the road.

Marian smiles at them and waves, "Hey guys!"

Yara raises an eyebrow at the curiously familiar greeting, but nods respectfully.

Dany smiles, knowing that Yara had not gotten a good look at Marian the evening before, so had no clear indication as to who she was now addressing. She took a little petty pleasure in revealing it, "Yara Greyjoy, meet Marian Hawke."

"The Storm God?" Yara's head pops back in shock

"So people keep saying," Marian agrees, smiling self-deprecatingly, then she extends her hand.

Yara takes the hand, and has to contain herself as she gets a feel for the power contained within the creature before her. Looking the goddess over, it was clear that there was something supernatural about her, from the perfect pale skin, to the softly glowing blue eyes, to the traces of red lightning that occasionally crackled between the metal plates of her armor.

"So, tell me what you've found," Dany tells Marian, looking out over the prisoners.

"Well, what we've got her are two thousand, eight hundred, and fifty-six living prisoners. Fifteen of which are Red Priests or Priests of other denominations, two hundred and eighty-nine are Masters from the Free Cities, and the rest are slaves."

Dany nods, looks over the crowd, then orders, "Kill every Master, free every slave, and then bind the magics of the priests and send them home. They will tell of what happened her, and they will warn that when I come, if I find a single slave in the city I visit, I will kill every master."

"You got it," Marian nods, then turns to a Scalebound next to her horse that had been writing everything down, "you got that Trod?"

"I have it," He agrees, then stows the paper and pulls his spear from the ground, "I shall tell the commander of his orders."

"Great, I'll get to binding some magic, then we should be done for the day."

As Dany and Yara turn their horses to leave, they hear Marian ask, "So how's your husband?"

The sound of their chatter dies down, and as the pair of women reach the gates of the city the sounds of the dying masters hits them. Yara looks over to Dany and grunts, "Remind me to stay on your good side."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," Dany tells her with a smirk that promises all the right things. 


	52. The Spider Tells All

The Dragon and the Hawke 52

Dany and Marian exchanged confused looks, then turned back to the spymaster and the Empress asks, "Could you repeat that?"

Varys bows his head, "Cersei Lannister has seized control of King's Landing, along with the Crownlands, by destroying the Sept of Baelor in the city."

"Okay, we got that bit, but how does that mean she seized power?" Marian asks

"The Queen saw fit to destroy the sept while it was packed, for her trial," Varys tells her, "Inside were Queen Margaery, her entire family, as well as most of the Queen's political opponents. Her son, the King Tommen, threw himself from a window in grief upon seeing the sept destroyed. From what my little birds have told me he was both a pious lad, and deeply in love with his queen. With no true heir to the crown, it returned to the Queen."

Dany frowns and leans back in her throne, rubbing her brow, "There is nothing we can do in regards to that, so let us move on. How fares King Stannis in his campaign?"

This time it is Shireen who speaks, "Father has not left the North."

Dany raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Apparently, the Boltons fled to the Dreadfort after their defeat at Winterfell, and he has decided that he will rid the North of them and the Karstarks to pay the debt that he owes Lady Sansa," Barristan tells her, "Ser Davos told me that father regarded her calling the Northern Banners to him as a service, so he is going to rid the realm of traitors for her."

"Not to mention it will free him from an attack from his rear once his forces move south," Daario notes.

Shireen nods in agreement, having seen her father at work many times.

Dany turns to Varys again, "Anything else of note?"

"Several things, your grace," Varys nods, "Most pressing is that Lord Walder Frey, and it seems most of the Frey line alongside him, were assassinated by an unknown assailant."

"The entire House of Frey?" Barristan asks, surprised.

"Indeed, Ser Barristan. It seems that after Ser Jaime Lannister helped reclaim Riverrun from the Blackfish, he returned to the Twins to celebrate with the Freys, and when he had left, all of the Freys were murdered in various horrific ways."

"What was the worst?" Marian asks, having heard of some gruesome ways to kill people, and done several of them.

"It seems that Black Walder and Lothar Frey were butchered and then cooked into a pie, which the Late Lord Frey then ate before being killed."

"Oh, wow, that's fucked up," Marian shivers, "Do not want to meet the guy that thought that up."

"Let us move away from the destruction of an entire House," Dany decides, "Varys?"

"Next we have an interesting bit of information from the south," Varys tells her, "It seems that both Dorne and the Reach are willing to declare their loyalty to you and Stannis."

"Why would they declare for me?"

"Well, in the case of Dorne, Ellaria Sand has taken control of the country after she assassination of Prince Doran, and she despises the Lannisters for what happened to Prince Oberyn. Your alliance with King Stannis is common knowledge, I have ensured that, so she is willing to submit to your alliance and join it."

He pauses and rifles through his thoughts before telling her, "As for the Reach, Lady Olenna Tyrell and her daughter in Law are the last of the Tyrells after Cersei destroyed the Sept of Baelor, and so she is willing to join any side that ends with Cersei's death."

"So they are willing to swear to me for the sake of vengeance?" Dany asks.

"They are," Varys nods, "As are the Stormlands. In fact, the only Kingdoms not willing to swear to you are the Crownlands, the Westerlands, and the Vale."

"I thought the Lord Paramount of the Vale was a relative of Sansa's?" The Empress asks.

"Yes, but also no," Varys tells her, "Petyr Baelish is Lord Paramount to the Vale until young Lord Robin is of a reasonable age, and he remains both out of the conflict and more dangerous than a pit of vipers."

"Wow, this guy a badass or something?" Marian asks

"No, he is in fact a rather frail man," Varys tells her, "but his skills in the Game are great, and I have long suspected that he seeks the Iron Throne for himself."

"Does he have any claim to it?" Dany asks

"None, he is the lesser son of a lesser house from a territory in the Vale that none remember," Varys tells her, "In fact, it is only because it is where he is from, that the Fingers are known at all outside of the Vale."

"Then he has propelled himself on groundless ambition?" Dany probes.

"That, and being a whoremonger, betrayer, and several other unseemly things," the spymaster counts, then he looks at her and tells her, "Including selling Lady Sansa to the Boltons."

Dany, who had learnt long ago of the terror that Sansa suffered, recalled that she had told her much the same. The Empress was resolved to see the man Petyr Baelish face some form of justice when the time came. Dealing with him would come later, though, as she had no real interest in getting the man herself.

She nods in understanding to show that she had heard her spymaster, then asks, "And is there anything else you wish to tell me, Varys?"

He thinks for a few seconds, then looks to Marian before turning his attention back to the Empress, "There is one last thing, your grace, about the former priests of the Red God that you told Lady Hawke to bind."

"Yes, is there something wrong with them?" Dany asks

"Aside from the deep despair and near constant raving about not hearing the voice anymore from most of them?" Varys asks, "One, a woman who I believe is the highest ranking priestess of the religion, has begged for an audience, and requested… quite respectfully… to be shown the light of the Storm God."

"And this is significant, how?" Dany asks, "I declared their magic be bound, and Marian did it. I will not go back on my word."

"And they should be glad that they didn't turn into emotionless husks!" Marian points out, "Cause that's what happens when your magic gets bound back where I come from."

Varys smiles a fair bit more maliciously than they are used to as he bows and tells them, "Then I shall happily inform the priestess that she has already been shown the light."

The Spider then steps away from the throne and starts to shuffle out of the chamber. After he is gone, Marian frowns and tells her companions, "That guy scares me sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" Barristan asks, "You are braver than I."

"What's so scary about him?" Yara, who had remained silent until this point, asks, "He doesn't seem too bad."

"It isn't that he's bad," Shireen tells her, having heard from her father enough stories about Varys to know to fear the man, "It's that he is an enigma, plus he has so many spies that you could be pouring your heart out to one of them and never even know it… and then they'll kill you."

Yara shrugs, "I dunno, that sounds like an average day on the Islands to me."

"Well we can't all be pirates," Marian notes.

"True, who could we take from if that were the case?" Yara snorts, but breaks off into a cough at Dany's raised eyebrow, "I mean… who would we have taken from!"

"Ah, young love," Marian smiles sardonically, then looks to her own wife, "Isn't it romantic?"

Missandei rolls her eyes but says nothing. 


	53. Volantis and beyond

The Dragon and the Hawke 53

It was a calm day in the Free City of Volantis, with merchants shouting about their wares, slaves going about their work, and everyone generally ignoring the various beatings that were happening as masters took out their frustrations on their slaves. The great conquering fleet had been cast off not three months ago, and with every day that passed the Masters grew more confident that the Dragon Queen had been beaten down and the cities of Slaver's Bay returned to the hands of the Great, Wise, and Good Masters.

They would not know that they were to be disappointed until the first day of Winter, when the sky above the city turned a wretched green. Lightning sparked across the discolored clouds, as three massive shapes flew from a crack in the sky. Terrible roars shook the city at its foundation, and with sudden certainty, the entire city went mad.

Slaves found their strength and turned on their hated Masters, tearing into them with the knowledge that a reckoning had come for those who had tried to destroy their beloved Empress. And Daenerys Stormborn was well loved in all of the Free Cities. She had brought freedom to the broken, lain waste to the masters, and taken back everything that had ever been stolen from her.

Her god was no less loved than the Empress, for they knew that for every slave that Daenerys freed, the Storm God freed six more. Priests and Priestesses of the Storm God had spread like a cancer through Essos, telling of both the great and terrible nature of Marian Hawke. It was known that she was the goddess incarnate, that her every action was a divine mandate.

If Marian knew the kind of following that she had erected without intention, she would have been both horrified and humored by the situation before trying to explain that she was not actually a god. Unfortunately, she would have been lying.

In the history of the world, there had never been one so powerful in the ways of magic with such a physical presence about her. In the North of Westeros, the Old Gods had been on the decline for centuries, losing ground to the Faith of the Seven. The Faith of the Seven was a powerful pantheon in its own right, but the actions of its followers besmirched its intention and as a result they could not intervene directly in the affairs of mortal men and women. R'hllor, the Red God, was the most active of the original gods of the world, but his goal had always been the aversion of the Long Night. He was the Azor Ahai dead and alive in the heavens, trying to reach down and tell his people how to destroy his most hated enemy. But his followers, like those of the Seven, often missed what he wanted them to hear, and as a result horrors had been committed in his name.

Marian was not as limited as the original gods, for she was present on the world as her divinity was confirmed. Her works were witnessed and recorded, her message was simple, and her demeanor endearing. People couldn't help following her when they saw her in action, because she was more powerful, more odd, and more honest than any other god they knew. And as she tore a hole through the sky above Volantis and let loose the Dragons, she made a hundred thousand new converts in an instant.

As the Dragon's soared through the Volantis sky, her voice echoed out louder than any heard in the past, "Volantis will surrender itself to the Maw! Daenerys Stormborn is merciful, she is patient, but she is neither to her enemies! Your leaders have two hours to decide upon the fate of your city; destruction or submission! Choose wisely!"

The sound dies slowly, the echo reaching every corner of the most powerful of the Free Cities. Men, women, and children cast their eyes up towards the circling monsters that had last haunted them in the days of Old Valyria. There was silence for a long moment, before the chaos resumed.

It was quick, it was brutal, and in the end a thousand Masters lay dead in the streets while the city's rulers rode out to meet with Daenerys and her God.

They did not wait long, for as soon as they had set down their table to treat with the Empress, the Dragons crashed into the earth before them. Sliding from their backs were three people, two were clearly of Valyrian descent. There was the Empress, garbed in a flowing dress and breaches underneath, the known sellsword who proved to be Aegon Targaryen, and then there was the dark haired sorceress who could be none other than Marian Hawke.

As soon as all three were before the council of merchants who ruled the city, the merchants bowed and their leader, "We submit to your will, your grace, and beg for your mercy."

Dany raises an eyebrow and turns to regard her companions, Marian shrugs as usual but Aegon shakes his head. The Empress nods, taking his counsel into mind and turns back to the merchants, "You, and the other Free Cities attacked my Empire without provocation, warning, or attempt at diplomacy."

"No more than what you yourself did to Astapor, your grace," one of the merchants can't help but bite back in response

"True," Dany nods, "Which is why I do not hold the attack against you. I threaten your way of life, you sought to end that threat. But now you have failed, and so the question stands… what am I to do?"

She stalks, moving like a cat about to pounce, to the chair that had been set at the table for her. It was very carefully more ornate than the one opposite it, which the merchant ruler would sit in. With a smile, she sits and waves for the merchant king to do so as well.

The man does, nervously, as she tells him, "My nephew suggests I reduce your city to ash, make a warning of you against the perils of trying to attack me. Marian, you may know her as the Storm God, urges me to think of the young and the slaves of your city, and simply execute any Master over the age of fifteen."

The Merchant Masters exchange terrified looks, hoping that she had not listened to either. They would be happy to know that for the most part that she did not, "I have chosen to not heed either of their advice, because my third advisor, Ser Barristan Selmy, tells me that it is something my father would have done. You are to be glad that I do not wish to be like my father, or the Mad Queen in King's Landing."

"Then… what will you do with us?" The Merchant King asks

"Volantis will now truly live up to its name," Daenerys declares, "There will be no more slavery, and those that made their fortunes off of the backs of those same slaves shall give that same ill gotten wealth to the city so that Volantis will pay for the upkeep of the now freed citizens. Is that understood?"

The Merchants around the King look at each other with both relief and horror, knowing that it is they who will suffer under this new declaration. It was their wealth more than any other's that had grown thanks to the suffering of slaves. But they had no choice, so they accepted.

Dany smiles when confirmation is given, "Good, a detachment of Scalebound will assist the city in keeping the peace. They will also be reporting to me, as will my Spymaster. Do not make me return in anger."

The men, now simply merchants in charge of nothing, nod, and then watch in terror as the Storm God tears another hole in existence and that hole disgorges a thousand well armed and armored men in scaled armor, clearly the Empress's army.

"Good news, Trod!" the Storm God tells the commander of the Scalebound happily, "You don't have to kill anyone."

The Scalebound nods, and the three dragon riders return to their mounts. As they rise up into the air, Marian Hawke's voice echoes out once more, "Alright! Everyone's free, so no more slavery and all that. Do not kill people, or the Scalebound'll have to kill you. They're really good at that. Uh…. Oh! You need to be nice to each other, starting now, or I'll get mad. Alright… that's all for now… bye! We've gotta go do this to the rest of the Free Cities, so have fun with being conquered!"

And then the giant hole in the sky closes, leaving many people in awe of the Storm God, and very confused. 


	54. Planning for things

The Dragon and the Hawke 54

News of Volantis' conquest spread quickly across Essos, and through the majority of the Free Cities especially. With the exception of Braavos, the rest of the Free Cities began to fear for their continued status as "Free." Braavos was calmly building up its forces, as it always did, but a quiet meeting between the Sealord of Braavos and Daenerys Targaryen settled the city of escaped slaves from fear.

It wasn't even a day after the ravens were sent from Volantis that the second city fell. Norvos, long battled neighbor of Braavos, fell to a sudden assault from the Scalebound and Dragons. It lasted two hours, more to do with the fact that Daenerys took that long to make sure all of her troops were out of the breaches.

Once everyone was aligned, Marian enhanced her voice and told the city, "Hi there! I'm pretty sure you know who we are, but just to be on the safe side… I'm Marian, and next to me on the big black Dragon is Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. On her other side astride the green Dragon is Aegon Targaryen, who does not have a cool name title like his aunt. He's still good at killing people though, so… know that in advance."

There is a brief moment of silence as the denizens of Norvos look carefully between each other, and then Marian's voice returns as loud as ever, "Oh, yeah! I'm supposed to tell you that you have two hours to surrender or we sack the city and kill a lot of people."

It didn't take two hours for the cities Ruler to decide to surrender, he had in fact done so the moment he knew that the green lights were the Empress and her army. He stepped out of the city gates with his entourage less than a minute after Marian stopped speaking and set up a white flag and a meeting tent.

Terms were made, surrender was given slaves were freed, threats were made, it was the usual affair with a conquest from the Dragon Empress. The only thing of note that happened was the sudden voice of god exclaiming, "Holy shit, you look like a puffed up - Oh, shit! Sorry! Let me-" before dying off suddenly.

Thus the second Free City fell to the might of the Dragon Empire, and everyone went home somewhat happy. Except for the Masters, they were miserable because they had to feed the poor.

After the fall of Norvos, Ravens were sent to the other Slave holding Cities with much the same conditions of surrender as had been given to Volantis and Norvos. They were given a single month to respond, or face the wrath of Dragon fire. So the drama that revolved around the Free Cities was dealt with for the moment, and the problems of Westeros were instead on the minds of Dany and her advisors.

"So, in order of issues in Westeros," Tyrion sighs, tapping the Council table in frustration, "My sister has gone well and truly mad, Stannis is stuck at the Dreadfort, the Reach and Dorne are willing to support us as rulers, and you wish to gift the Iron Islands their independance. Oh, and we still have the threat of Ice Monsters from beyond the Wall!"

He rubs his face and takes a breath, "Is there anything else I should know before we start?"

"Aye," Yara agrees, smiling, "Seeing as I'll be Queen, the Iron Islands won't be breaking off from the rest."

The dwarf blinks, then turns to her. He stares at her for a hard moment before his gaze shifts to Dany. The Empress merely raises an eyebrow in challenge and he nods, "I wish you well in your coming nuptials. May I ask when the ceremony is?"

"We will wed when the Free Cities have been taken," Dany tells him.

"Ah, there is something I would have liked to know about," Tyrion snaps his fingers and raises one to the heavens, "Why are we conquering the Free Cities? I was under the assumption that we would hold off for at least a decade."

"They tried to destroy us," Barristan tells him.

"Truly, were any of our associates harmed?" Tyrion sits up and looks along the Council table, everyone was there, including Hizdahr and Mossador, who with their exception as well as the Greyjoy siblings were all his friends.

"They did not break the beaches," Grey Worm assures him.

"And the remaining Harpies who thought to cause trouble were eradicated," Daario tells him.

"Ah, splendid," Tyrion claps his hands together, "So… of the issues I've lain out, that Varys has already informed you of before me, which should we address first?"

"I think we should speak with my father before we make a decision on the Reach and Dorne," Shireen notes, "He has been besieging the Dreadfort for nearly half a year, he could also probably use some assistance in that."

Dany nods, "I was thinking much the same, though I am hesitant to send Drogon and Viserion to the North. They are not used to the cold yet, and I would have them well rested should the Free Cities try to fight."

"I could go," Marian offers, "Be easy for me, plus I can you something to call me back with if you need to."

After another moment she adds, smiling "Plus, the cold never bothered me anyway."

There is the distant sound of a wall crumbling, the results of the continued construction to restore the city to it's previous glory. It takes a few seconds for Tyrion to note, "It makes sense, she can get there quickly, no doubt reduce the Dreadfort to rubble if the Bolton's try to resist, and then establish a breach for us to talk to Stannis through."

Dany nods, "A good idea, one I approve. You'll depart tomorrow to help King Stannis claim the ancestral home of the Boltons."

"And if I might make a second suggestion," Varys leans forward, "The Twins are now without lords, and the Riverlands are without a Lord Paramount. I hear that Edmure Tully still languishes in the cells in the Twins, perhaps if you free him while you are in Westeros, you might claim another nation's loyalty."

Marian nods, and turns to Dany, "Wha'd'ya say?"

"Make it so," Dany nods, "Though be sure that Stannis is who receives the credit, I do not want to fracture his or Shireen's realm any more than it already is."

"Thank you, your Grace," Shireen smiles.

The meeting continues, steering away from the viscous topics of the Westerosi affairs, and towards the upkeep of the Empire. Varys tells tales that he has heard from his little birds in the newly conquered cities, Daario goes over local crime rates and the city rebuilding, Barristan shares what Jorah Mormont and the current Administrator of Yunkai have sent him, and Missandei shares the attitudes of the populace as a whole and gets backed up by Hizdahr and Mossador.

With nothing as pressing as what was already discussed, the meeting lasts half an hour longer before adjourning. With it finished, people pair off and go their separate ways. Notably, Missandei and Marian, as well as Dany and Yara.

The Storm God and her wife head quickly to their rooms, strip down, and make the most of their final night together for a few weeks. They do as they usually do, and Marian smiles alluringly at the love of her life, asking with a low purr, "Do you have any threes?"

Missandei holds up her cards to get a better look at them and keep Marian from seeing what she actually has, and tells her just as seductively, "Go fish."

"Damn," Marian laughs, and picks a card.

"Do you have any sevens?"

Marian sighs and hands over the card, much to her wife's glee. She leans back and laughs at her wife's pout before popping back up and asking, "Do you think they truly were planning to wed?"  
"What, Dany and Yara?" Marian shuffles her cards and thinks, "I'd say yes. Now way our girl would let herself get hoodwinked like that."

"What, just as I did you?" Missandei asks, reminding her of their own sudden marriage.

Marian snorts, "You didn't tell me we were getting married at all, dear."

Missandei snorts, "then is it any different at all, really?"

"I think so," Marian nods, "And I stand by the fact that they probably talked about it before."

On the subject of talking, the pair in question were doing some of that and a large amount of the other thing.

Leaning over her soon to be bride, Dany bites at her and asks, "When did you think to ask for my hand?"

"Didn't," Yara leans forward, and groans as Dany pulls away, "I was planning on taking you tonight."

Oh, i don't think that will be happening, at all," Dany notes, rocking.

"Of course not," Yara sighs, and tries to bring her hands to Dany's hips, but can't quite reach, "What with me being tied to the bed and all."

"Yes, and you are going to stay there until I have decided to release you," Dany tells her, running a finger between breasts, "After all, that is the point of marriage."

"By Marian, I get it!" Yara groans in frustration, "Please."

Dany laughs, and settles down for bed, "Maybe in the morning." 


	55. Thinking about the Past

**The Dragon and the Hawke 55**

The Seige of the Dreadfort had been a long affair. What was thought to be a week or two long seige at most turned into months, and nearly a year by the time Marian was sent to intervene. Originally, it had been Stannis and his forces against Roose Bolton and the Lord's own. Time and circumstances intervened, though, and soon both sides received reinforcements.

Stannis was joined after a month at siege by the majority of the Northern forces, what was left of them. After the war in the South and the aftermath of the Red Wedding, the men of the North had been scattered and broken. Only two years of peace had managed to bring most of the men home, and they were not quick to rejoin the fighting. They needed to deal with the harvest, along with the coming Winter, before they thought of fighting again. What joined Stannis were the men who felt, in their hearts, that the House of Bolton needed to be extinguished.

One of the armies that came to aid Stannis, were the Karstarks. When the representative of their family had met with the King, he had explained that they wished to return some of the honor lost when they betrayed Robb Stark at the Twins. Naturally, it was a ruse to get the Karstark forces through the lines of the Baratheon army.

When night fell three days after they had joined, the Karstarks turned coat, murdering any man they could reach before retreating into the Dreadfort. This attack had damaged the besieging army's moral, and there was a lull in the attack against the castle. It did not last long, though, merely a week before the men were witness to yet another horror that the Boltons were willing to commit.

Over the course of the fighting, there had been several successful infiltrations into the keep, but none of the men sent in were heard from again. It was assumed that they had been captured or killed before they could open the gates or do any other damage. At the dawn of the eighth month of sieging, the army learnt what had really happened to their men.

Bones were catapulted over the walls of the Dreadfort, a gift from the Boltons. Panic nearly spread through the Baratheon men when it was discovered that they were being pelted with human bones, chewed ones at that. It was even worse when the bites were seen to not have come from hounds, as it was said Ramsay Bolton favored them, but from the teeth of men.

The Boltons had cannibalized their prisoners.

Order was kept, but it was to this atmosphere of fear and near panic that Marian arrived at the dying of the daylight on a bitterly cold day. She had taken a horse, something she hadn't done since she, Dany, and the rest had traveled the Maw back when it was Slaver's Bay. She rode within a mile of the Baratheon Camp before the call of "Halt!" was given.

She brought her horse to a stop, and turned to the man who had made the call. He was a young lad, clearly put on patrol as shit detail. He was walking towards her, a crossbow aimed at the ground rather than her, "Identify yourself."

"Marian Hawke," She tells him, and pretends not to notice the very obvious shift in his demeanor when she says it, "Here to assist King Stannis in the siege."

"Yes M'lady," The young man bows his head, "Right this way."

Marian kicks her horse, and as it starts to meander after the boy she has to wonder exactly how well known her face must be. It seemed to be the way of things, because no matter who she talked to in this world or her last one, people recognized her no matter what she did to try and hide her identity. It had gotten to the point, back home, that the only way a quest she was on could be considered stealthy, was if she was acting as the distraction. People knew her, her face, her mannerisms, and her attitude before they ever met her.

It takes five minutes to reach Stannis's tent, moving at the boy's pace. He takes the riens as she climbs off and walks the steed away while she pushes the flap up. Four eyes turn to her, and it is Stannis who speaks, "Lady Hawke, to what do we owe this visit?"

"Dany heard that you were having trouble with the Boltons," Marian explains, stepping inside, "I volunteered to help."

The stoic King nods his head in acceptance, then turns his head back to the map sitting atop a table before him, "We could use the help. Since our last meeting, I've learnt of your conquest of Meereen, could you do the same here?"

"Of course," Marian nods, and steps up to the map, looking it over, "Though I think you might want me to do something else, the gate to the fort is the drawbridge, taking it out would destroy your entrance."

"What d'you recommend?" Davos Seaworth asks.

"I could drag the bridge down," She offers, "That would get it open, not to mention seeing a pair of giant ghost hands tearing something that big from its chains would really fuck with them."

"Yes, and after everything, they deserve some of the fear," Davos nods, his eyes narrowed and his head bowed as he thought of the present from not so long ago.

"You know, I keep hearing horror stories about these people," Marian notes, turning to Selyse Baratheon, she asks, "Why the hell did nobody deal with them before now?"

"The Starks are a merciful House," Selyse notes, her frown clearly telling all that she would not have been anything close to merciful with the Boltons.

Marian nods, then smirks, "Not anymore, I think."

"Rightly so," Stannis nods, then he looks up, "We attack at dawn, I want my men rested. I will arrange for a tent to be made available."

"Much appreciated," Marian smiles.

Stannis calls for one of his men, and then orders that she be given access to a free tent. There were more than a few free, as the cold had forced the men to forgo space in favor of heat. When she is shown into a tent, she smiles at her escort and waves him off, telling him that she can manage for herself. The guard nods, backing out of the tent, leaving her alone. The first thing she does is cast a fireball at the unlit torch barrel, which lights up immediately.

Then she spins and with a splayed hand immobilizes the shadow that had been creeping towards her in the dark.

There is a startled gasp as the unknown person is lifted into the air. He drags at invisible bindings around his arms as he is dragged into the light, though after a second in it Marian realizes that it is in fact a girl. The girl, who couldn't be more than sixteen, kicks wildly at Marian as she is hovered in front of the mage.

"Alright, enough, seriously," Marian tells the girl after a minute of fruitless kicking, "You know you can't break free. Stop trying."

The girl just kicks all the harder, dragging with all her might at binds that did not even exist, but kept her in place regardless. She growls, grunts, and spits at Marian while doing it, until eventually the mage just grows tired of watching the display and drops her.

A startled cry and a pained yelp follow as the girl falls flat on her ass, glaring up at Marian. The Storm God just raises an eyebrow at the intruder, "You don't get to be mad, kid, you're the one who snuck in here."

The girl doesn't say anything, just glaring. After a minute of neither saying anything more, the girl finally breaks and asks, "Is Bran Stark really alive?"

Marian blinks, then nods, "Yeah, he's in Winterfell right now getting an obscene amount of love showered on him from his sister."

"Sansa's in Winterfell?" the girl demands.

"Yeah, she's helping her husband and Bran run it," Marian nods.

"The Lannisters got their hands on her again!?" the girl jumps up.

"Ah, no," Marian shakes her head, and tilts it when the girl stops short of rushing out of the tent, "Tyrion and me saved her from the Boltons a while back. They got together for real a few months ago."

"You saved my sister from the Boltons?" the girl narrows her eyes.

"Your sister?" Marian asks, then blinks and asks, "Wait, you're Arya Stark?"

"I am," the girl confesses, realizing she had spilled the beans in her questions and seeing no reason to hide the fact now.

"Huh, great, I was gonna look for you once everything settled down, but now I don't have to… yay," Marian smiles, realizing that she doesn't have to do more work.

The girl, now known to be Arya, raises an eyebrow, "I'm glad to have saved you the effort."

"Ha," Marian flops down in one of the available chairs, "So, what's happened with you? I bet the story's compelling as all hell."

Arya turns her head and slinks over to another chair, settling in it slowly, "I'm sure it's not as interesting as yours."

Marian smirks, "Oh, kid, you don't know the half of it!"

"Care to share, then?" Arya challenges.

"Alright," Marian, clapping her hands together and when she splays them, a panorama springs into existence in the air, and starts to show the dramatic tale of her life, "My friend Varic would have been able to tell the story so much better than me. But! I'll try anyway…"

And so she begins her tale, forgetting that she should probably have pressed to get answers from the Stark girl, "it all started in another world, one where magic is a lot more present than around here…"


	56. Not Today

**The Dragon and the Hawke 56**

When morning dawned, Marian and Arya joined Stannis before the Dreadfort. The massive structure loomed above them in the grey mist of dawn. The cold air fogged their breath and the snow about them was stained red and brown from the near constant battles of life and death over the past few months.

"Who's this?" Ser Davos, the first to notice Marian's companion, asks.

"I'm Arya Stark," the girl introduces herself, eliciting a raised eyebrow from the Seaman.

"A pleasure, M'Lady," He bows his head.

"A pleasure indeed," It is Mellisandre who speaks next, turning to gaze down at the girl with interest, "Have you done as the Lord directed, child?"

Arya glares at Mellisandre, "Did you?"

"I'm afraid not," the Red Woman shakes her head, turning to Davos, "Ser Davos saw to that."

The Onion Knight looks between them and asks, "You two know each other?"

"She was a companion of the bastard," the Red Lady supplies.

"Gendry," Arya corrects, "His name was Gendry, and you did something to him, didn't you, you witch?"

"Oh she tried," Davos agrees, giving the witch a baleful glance, "But I set the lad free. If he had strong arms and a good sense of direction he should be alive."

Arya turns to him, blinking up at him, then nods in thanks.

"Regardless of who the child is," Stannis speaks, turning from a conversation with Marian over what the mage would do, "She's here and she intends to fight."

The last missing Stark sniffs, "Roose Bolton dies today."

"That's a mite bloodthirsty, lass," Davos notes.

Arya gives him a sidelong glance, "Next you'll be telling me I was harsh on the Freys."

Davos, and everyone else who knew exactly what happened to the Freys, has to stop when they hear the small girl say that. The wizened seaman blinks down at her, then snorts, "I'm sure we can make exceptions for Freys."

"I thought as much," Arya agrees.

"Who're the Freys?" Marian asks, not really understanding the context.

Arya looks to her and with an enigmatic smirk she tells her, "Nobody, now."

"Fair enough," The mage snorts, then she turns her attention to the massive drawbridge in front of them, and the archers perched above just waiting for her or anyone else to be stupid enough to come into range.

The storm god starts striding confidently towards the raised bridge, and is peppered with arrows almost as soon as she crosses that undefined line between in and out of range. The forces of the King do not expect the sudden shock of seeing their trump card apparently shot to death before she can make a single move.

They need not have worried though. Marian was, as had been proven time and again, a high enough level in badass that an entire hailstorm of arrows didn't do much to slow her down. She'd taken that much from Varic back home on an average day, at least six times! Arrows never truly were the bane of her existence. It was always the tanks that hurt her the most, and in this realm she never seemed to run into any. Though she hadn't fought a Westerosi knight yet, so that may just be a consequence of location.

Again, Marian was discounting her condition as a faught Fade Demon, or her newly crowned status as Storm God. But her continual refusal to acknowledge her new state did not take away from the power she could wield with startling ease.

Case and point: When she reached the drawbridge - covered in arrows sticking from odd places - all she had to do was raise a hand and the massive structure of wood was torn from its mooring. Heavy chains slithered out of their holdings, men screamed as stone was uprooted with the fastenings, and then there was silence as both attackers and defenders had to stare at the massive wooden bridge hanging suspended in midair.

With a thunderous crash and a cloud of splintering wood, the bridge slams down, wedging itself in place and creating a clear path for the Baratheon army to take. Eyes from the walls trace the woman as she starts to move away, and without much thought, there is a scream from inside the castle. Men, some as young as children, and some as old as Walder Frey, charge from the destroyed drawbridge with mad desperation.

Behind them, a young man with black hair urges them on alongside a team of dogs. The dogs nip at the heals of the charging men, and it is clear to the preparing soldiers that it isn't a case of bloodlust that drives the mob onwards. It is bowel loosening fear at the idea of being consumed by the dogs, as some of the stragglers soon are.

Marian blinks, erecting a shield as the disgorge of humanity charges at, then around her. They smack into the solid barrier of magic, and then are pressed into the sizzling sphere by their own allies. She watches as some catch fire from the concentrated magics and other break off and charge in another direction. It takes no more than a second for her to be consumed by the writhing mass of humans.

Back at the line of the Baratheon forces, Arya fingers her sword and asks, "Should we help her?"

"She'll be fine," Davos assures her, "It'd take a might more than some dirty Bolton bastards to put her down."

"How can you be sure?" Arya asks

"You've not heard the tale of her wedding night?" he asks her.

"I've been out of touch," She tells him, a frown marring her face as she thinks of her time in Braavos.

"Understandable," Davos nods, "I'll tell you the tale over a drink when this is over."

"You'd share a drink with a girl?" She asks.

"I'd share a drink with anyone who's got the balls to kill Walder fuckin Frey," Davos had had many run-ins with the Late Lord during his time as a smuggler and as Stannis's right hand man. The old bastard was a grump, a cackling sack of cats, and an utter shit of a human being all at once.

Arya turns her eyes back to the clump of humanity trying to get into the glowing circle, and her eyes widen when she sees that the Boltons atop the castle walls had started firing at the sphere, and into their own men, with impunity. She supposed that explained why the Baratheon army hadn't advanced yet. They'd been sieging the Dreadfort for months, and must have learnt every dirty trick that the Boltons had in stock.

On the subject of dirty tricks, she chose that moment to slip away from the Baratheon men. It was a simple task to get out of sight, as all the attention of the battle was on the growing mess near the drawbridge. By the time she'd slipped out of the army, the pile of dead men around the glowing sphere was large enough that others had to climb over it to get through.

She had to admit that she was surprised that either army let that heap of madness continue for so long, but she supposed it made tactical sense from the Baratheon point of view. She already knew that the Boltons were as mad as the Waif, so it made a small degree of sense that there would be terrible events on their side.

Speaking of terrible events, the growl behind her told her that she had been caught in some capacity as she moved silently through the field. She turned slowly and was greeted by the sight of the young man who had pushed the army on, accompanied by two large hounds. He smiles at her, the kind she knew well, "Hello there, little girl, would you like to play a game?"

The smile she gives to him is equally as deadly, "Sounds fun, what are the rules?"

"Oh, it's quite simple, really," The man, who she began to suspect was Roose Bolton's bastard son she'd heard so many terrible rumors about on her journey North, tells her, "All you have to do is run. If my hounds catch you, you lose."

Arya nods, and he smile slowly sinks into a smirk, "And if I catch you?"

"If you catch me?" Ramsey Bolton chuckles, "Then my lady, I suppose the game is over in a very different way!"

"I suppose so," She nods, "Shall we count to ten?"

Ramsey's grin starts to show teeth, "Oh, I think we shall. Ready?"

Arya nods, and says, "One."

The bastard's eyes light up and he pulls his bow from the side of his horse, "Two."

"Three," She tells him as she starts to circle around to the side.

Ramsel pulls an arrow and sets it on his lap as he tells her, "Four."

"Five," is accompanied by her drawing her blade. The tiny blade, named needle so long ago, glistens as it swishes through the air.

Ramsey pulls a second arrow as his dogs start to growl, hunching over in excitement, "Six."

"Seven," Is accompanied by Arya moving her sword in front of her and her free hand behind her back.

Ramsey pulls a third arrow and checks to make sure it will do, "Eight."

"Nine," Arya stops moving and is absolutely still.

Ramsey notches the arrow and takes aim, "Ten."

The moment is an explosion of sudden movement, with both setting about their motions with precise control. Ramsey's releases his first arrow, which flies straight towards the girls heart. At the same moment, Arya falls to her knees and to the left with such sudden speed that she has already completed her move before Ramsey even releases.

As his arrow flies just past her head, Needle stabs out and the first dog who had been rushing her is impaled through the heart along its length. With her training at the House of Black and White, the girl pulls the blade out with ease, which allows her to spin to the right to avoid the second dog.

Ramsey, not having expected to miss, nonetheless already has his second arrow notched and firing as the Stark girl spins from his hound. The arrow flies straight and true, but the point where it would have pierced her heart is diverted and passes below her armpit with an amazing display of sudden motion by the girl.

The girl's spin, which had deflected the arrow, ends with her sword pointed towards the hound as it leaps at her, and the blade slides down the snarling beast's throat, killing it. The hound carcass drags the girl to the ground, and Ramsey thinks that victory is his as he takes aim with his final arrow. He lets loose, and is terribly disappointed when the girl has the presence of mind to move so that the dead hound takes the arrow.

He sighs, frowning to himself, and then pulls another arrow from his quiver. He is in the process of pulling it when he feels a sharp cut along his thigh. He looks down, and sees that the girl is stepping away from him, a smile on her face, "What has you so glad, girl?"

"They teach you many things in the House of Black and White, Ramsey Bolton," the girl tells him. He starts in shock at the name; for in certain circles, especially the ones he was part of, the House was a grand legend to live up to. His eyes widen and he looks down at the cut on his leg, which seems to be bleeding quite terribly.

"So you've killed me, then?" He asks, not truly believing it.

"I have," Arya tells him, then she smiles and asks, "Would you like to play a game, while we wait?"

"Oh, I love games," Ramsey pulls his sword from its scabbard and with his good leg kicks his horse into motion.

"What do we say to the god of death?" the girl asks him calmly as the horse rushes towards her. Just as it reaches her she slides to the left, the side his sword was not aimed at, and lashes out with her blade.

The Bastard Bolton feels himself sliding from his seat, and he realizes that the girl had cut the stirrup, too late to do anything but fall. He crashes to the ground as his horse rushes off, neighing piteously. He tries to pull himself to his feet, but he feels to weak to stand. The blood flowing from his leg has become too much to act, and he can do nothing but watch the girl step up to him.

He has to ask, "Well, what do you say to the god of death?"

"Not today," She tells him, watching as the light dims in his eyes.


	57. That look in the Eyes

**The Dragon and the Hawke 57**

Roose Bolton waited in the great hall of the Dreadfort for the Baratheon forces to break down the door. He'd known they were lost as soon as he'd seen the woman who stole Sansa Stark from him. The woman could bend reality to her whim, it would be child's play for her to find a way into the castle. He'd not been wrong and watched with his men as the woman tore the drawbridge from its mooring and set it down with all of the grace of a collapsing tower.

Ramsey had ridden out with a thousand of their starving conscripts from the Bolton lands, and those men had been slaughtered by the boy's own idiotic idea that if one arrow through the heart didn't kill the magic woman, a thousand would. As a result, those starving men were dead, and Ramsey was nowhere to be seen.

His eldest son could only be dead, he'd been gone too long outside the castle, and there was no way he would manage to escape with all of his hounds and on a conspicuous horse. The Bolton Lord knew that he was beaten, but he would not go so quietly as to let the Baratheons behead him like a common criminal.

He drew his sword as the door finally cracked against the blows raining down on it from the other side. He turns to his men, those still remaining, armed with their swords or with crossbows aimed at the door. He turned back to it as there was another splintering and a hole was opened in the center. One of his men loose their bolts and a cry of pain from the other side tells him that it found its mark.

There is a pause from the other side of the door, and the voice of Stannis Baratheon calls through, "Give up Bolton, you can't win."

"My men are willing to die with me," Roose declares, "We will not be killed as criminals."

There is another pause from outside the door, then another voice, one that sounds more like a commoner, "Lads, King Stannis is a reasonable man, he won't fault you for following your liege lord, but you've got no reason to die other than Lord Bolton's whims. You lay down your arms and the King'll be lenient."

Roose narrows his eyes and casts his gaze over his men. He can see almost immediately that he has made a mistake with that, as his men see him eyeing them suspiciously. There had been a sort of trust and camaraderie between the doomed men not two minutes ago, but Roose had broken it with his distrustful gaze.

He tries to cast distrust against the Baratheon bannerman who had been so eloquent and asks, "And how can they trust that you won't simply take advantage of their surrender?"

"Well, I'm speaking from experience, m'self," The man replies, "Not s'long ago I was breaking the law, but King Stannis saw that I was better off alive."

"An o're you then?" One of his men demands, and Roose turns in fury to the offending speaker, but freezes when he sees that the man has his crossbow aimed at himself rather than the door.

The bolt was aimed steadily at his head, and he decided not to try anything just yet, out of self preservation. As he realizes that his men have nearly all turned against him, the man on the other side of the door declares, "Well, not t'sound all puffed up, you may've heard of me, Davos Seaworth, they call me th'Onion Knight."

"Aye, I've 'eard of 'im," One of the Bolton men nods, "S'a bloke what got made a Knight f'being a smuggler."

"Well he ain't ever been a Bolton lad," another of his men declares, "I d'know about you, but I'd rather face th'swords than the bastard's 'ounds."

"Hounds?" the Onion Knight asks, "If yer talking about Ramsey Bolton, he's dead. Not t'mention we've got Lord Bolton's wife and other son."

Roose's eyes widen and he turns towards the door in fury at the idea that his newborn son has been taken by the Baratheons, and it is then that he feels the first bolt enter his back. He gives a startled and pained cry as it sinks between ribs and digs into his flesh and through his left lung.

The Bolton Lord drops to the ground, limp, as Davos Seaworth notes, "I'll take from 'is cry that Lord Bolton is dead?"

"Nearly there," the first Bolton man to have spoken tells the knight, "Think th'King'd like a chance to take 'is 'ead without us doing it."

Roose watches as the man steps over to the door and asks, "We get t'live if we let y'in, right?"

"You do," He hears Stannis say as the light starts to fade and sight begins to drift.

He hears the bar being removed and the sound of the door opening, and then somebody steps up to him and he struggles to look up. Stannis Baratheon stands above him, glaring down at him dispassionately, "It is a shame I can't take my time with this, but you've not got long it looks like. Roose Bolton, you are a traitor to the King in the North, Robb Stark, a cannibal, a thief, and a monster of the highest order. For these crimes you are stripped of titles and holdings and sentenced to die. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Roose manages to gurgle in anger, blood dripping out of his mouth instead of words. Stannis nods, draws his sword, and swings down.

Davos steps up beside his king and notes, "Didn't know Bolton was a thief, your grace."

Stannis looks away from the corpse and to his hand and tells him, "He stole Winterfell from its rightful owners, that is thievery enough for me."

"Beggin your pardon, your grace, but didn't we steal it from the Boltons, then?"

"We did, but we simply held it for the Starks," Stannis tells him, "There is an old saying, Davos. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

"You think it's true?" Davos asks

"With everything that Melisandre has shown me, I know that words have power," Stannis tells him, waving for a pair of his men to take the corpse away before leaving the great hall in the direction he knew his priestess, wife, and the mad mage to be in.

He and Davos come across them playing with the baby Bolton while the child's mother watches nervously. The large Frey woman sees him coming and gets to her feet at a speed he would not have believed. He raises a hand calmingly, "You'll not suffer the same fate as your father or husband, Walda Bolton."

Walda nods quickly, "If I may, your Grace, what is to happen to me and little Dom."

"Dom? Named after Lord Bolton's late firstborn, I take it?" Stannis asks

"Yes, m'lord," she nods, and looks down fondly at her son, "I thought… it made him happy, your Grace."

"I'm sure it did," Stannis nods, then tells her, "You and your son will travel to Winterfell with Arya Stark, where they shall decide what will happen to you both."

Walda nods quickly and takes little Domeric from Marian as the mage gives it to her. Stannis catches a gleam in the mad god's eye that reminds him of that Selyse used to get before all of their failed sons, and Shireen. He turns his attention back to Walda and tells her, "Ser Davos will accompany to your rooms, and you will remain there until you depart, do you understand?"

"Yes, your Grace, thank you," Walda eagerly follows after Davos, glad that she and her son have escaped death for another day.

Stannis watches them leave the room before turning to Marian, "You have my thanks, Lady Hawke. If you had not arrived when you did, the tide may have been turned with my army retreating to the North."

"Happy to help," Marian nods, then asks, "So what's your plan now?"

"We'll continue the march," Stannis tells her, "The Twins are run by whatever remains of the Frey forces, and those men were never impressive in anything but numbers. With my army and the Northern might, it will be much easier to take them than it was the Dreadfort."

Marian nods, then asks, "You hear about what's happening in King's Landing?"

"We've been occupied," Stannis reminds her, "I take it something significant has taken place?"

"Yeah, Tyrion's sister Cersei blew up the Sept of Baelor and gotten herself crowned King."

Stannis blinks a few times, then turns his head and sighs, "Come, we'll need an empty room so that you can bring somebody who can actually explain the situation in more detail through from Meereen."

"Great!" Marian follows as he makes his way through the castle, "I gotta talk to my wife about something anyway!"

Stannis, recalling the look in her eyes, agrees, "I'm sure you do."


	58. Brothers and Sisters

**The Dragon and the Hawke 58**

When Arya Stark returned to Winterfell, she'd always expected to have to murder the current dwellers to reclaim her family home. Instead, she was greeted by the tightest hug she'd ever received from her sister. Sansa had never hugged her so strongly before, in fact all of their previous physical encounters had been rather violent, or violent for children before they realized the damage that a piece of solid steel can do.

Sansa was muttering something into her hair, over and over again, which sounded like a stream of apologies for things that the younger girl had never blamed her for. There was their father's death, Robb's death, Joffrey's cruelty, and a dozen other things that were all just part of the background torture that they'd both had to experience over the years.

It takes a few minutes, but Arya is finally able to pull herself from Sansa, at least enough to look around. She sees two boys she'd long thought dead, and a wide grin spreads on her face when Bran smiles at her. Beside her crippled brother, Rickon is eyeing her with some wariness, but more excitement than anything else. He'd not seen her in years, nearly forgotten her face just as she'd nearly forgotten his, but now he was remembering her.

"This is beautiful," She hears the dark skinned Missandei note from the other side of the enchanted wall.

"Isn't it?" Marian, the mage who'd caught her and helped take the Dreadfort, agreed, "Speaking of… There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Does it have anything to do with how you continuously look to the child in Lady Bolton's arms?"

"Oh, you know me so well."

"Ahem," Arya hears a loud throat clearing, a recognizable one. She turns her head and sees the woman who had kicked the Hound's ass glaring at the mage and her wife, "Lady Sansa and her brothers are attempting to reunite with their lost sister."

"Don't mind me," Arya calls, "I think it's funny."

Brienne of Tarth turns and raises an eyebrow at her, "I'm sure you do, but your family is more important than a fool and her wife."

"Hey! I take offense to that," Marian cries, "My wife is not a fool!"

"I know," Brienne agrees.

There is a snort from a few feet away from them, and at a lower height than would be expected. Arya turns to see, of all people, Tyrion Lannister. The dwarf notices her attention and bows his head, "My lady."

"How're you here?" Arya asks, "Last I heard you were about to get your head taken off?"

"Ah, well, fortune favors the lucky, it seems," Tyrion tells her, "My brother and Varys spirited me away the day before my time, so now I serve Daenerys Targaryen, and Marian was kind enough to save your dear sister from the Boltons."

"She said as much," Arya nods, her chin bumping against the sister in question's shoulder. Arya pats Sansa's back, "Okay, okay, let off."

Sansa pulls back, a laugh bursting from her lips, then she calms herself and stands straight. She takes a breath, and tells her sister, "Arya, welcome home."

Arya's own face splits into a grin and she nods, but says nothing.

Marian and Missandei watch as the last of the lost Starks talks with her family. They hug and turn back towards the rest of the White Room. Marian leans against her wife and asks, "So what've I missed?"

"Not a terribly great deal," Missandei tells her, "Over the last month, Myr, Lys, and Qarth have all surrendered to the Empress."

"Well that's good," Marian nods, "Any weird stuff happen?"

"I would not call it 'weird,' but there have been incidents of fighting amongst the priests of other religions," Missandei tells her.

"Ah, right, I take it people still think I'm a god?" Marina frowns, breathing out of her nose in a heavy sigh.

"There is no harm in it," Missandei tells her, rubbing her back, "They are not causing trouble."

"Yeah, okay, but what about when we get the inevitable religious war?" Marian asks, "I'd hate to have to fight against my own people! Cause with my luck that's who I'll have to be up against!"

"You're luck?" a new voice intrudes on their conversation, and they both turn to see Yara Greyjoy striding towards them.

The woman had changed quite a bit in the month since Marian had last lain eyes on her. Rather than the Greyjoy armor that she wore at nearly every opportunity, she was garbed in a flowing coat of blue, which looked similar in color to the type that Dany would wear in her outdoor dresses. There was a regal air to her as well, as though she'd gotten used to the idea of being queen of more than just her islands.

The seawoman extended her hand and as Marian takes it she notes, "I don't know if anyone's told you, but your luck is fucking fantastic."

"Oh, you're just being nice," Marian waves her off with her free hand, "I've had plenty of shit experiences."

"Oh really, name one you've had recently." Yara challanges.

Marian raises a finger challengingly, opens her mouth, then stops. She looks down, starts counting out on her hand, then blinks, "Huh… wow."

"There, see, stop complaining, most've had a lot of a worse go of it," Yara tells her.

Marian again, looks like she wants to object, but the steady grip and a tight squeeze on the arm in Missandei's possession has her conceding to Yara's point, "Alright, fine, I'm doing pretty good."

"Only that?" Missandei asks, which causes Marian's eyes to widen.

Yara laughs, leaving the pair to their marital bliss.

Back on the other side of the world, things are not going nearly as smoothly. Sitting in her throne in King's landing, Cersei of House Lannister growled as yet another report came in about her most hated brother living peacefully in the North. Beside her, Jamie, her brother and Hand, was smiling slightly at the news that Tyrion was alive and alright. The news was dampened by the fact that in order to achieve this he'd murdered their father, but he was honestly it had taken that long for one of them to do it. The Kingslayer had always suspected that Tyrion would be the one to kill the most Lannisters, but it seemed that that title now belonged to Cersei.

Aside from him and his siblings, there were only a few distant cousins left in the Westerlands. Hell, he'd be there now if it weren't for the fact that she'd sent her undead henchman to get him. Jamie'd never thought she'd do something like that, but seeing the massive man just waiting for him as he exited the castle had been enough to let him know which way the wind was blowing.

His return was met with a glad smile, one that he knew was as thin as paper. He knew that anyone who was willing to use wildfire in a city was as mad as the mad king, perhaps even worse, because at least he'd managed to stop Aerys from actually doing anything.

"It seems our brother still lives," Cersei notes, bitterly, "Happy and hole with a growing family."

"And on the other side of the Continent," Jamie notes, "Perhaps we should worry about him after we deal with the Army marching towards us."

She nods, "A good suggestion, my Hand."

Oh gods, she was flirting with him, here, in the throne room. He nods, trying his best to push his misgivings aside and asks, "How are we to deal with the Baratheon army?"

She gives him a look, both a glare and a beg at the same time, "How am I to know? You are my Hand, deal with our enemies!"

He sighs, nods, and makes his way out of the room, wondering who would finally destroy this city, Stannis or his sister.


	59. New Cities

**The Dragon and the Hawke 59**

Marion and Missandei spent a full day enjoying their reunion, and only emerged after the sun was high enough to be shining through their balcony. When they entered the throne room, they were met by Dany and Barristan, each with an amused glint in their eye.

"Hey guys," Marian smiles, "What're we planning today?"

"We are planning a series of new cities across the continent," Dany tells her, and waves for the pair to follow.

She leads them out onto the balcony that had been constructed for the Dragons after Drogon's affair with the wall. In the center was a table that had been set with a map of the known world. Dany gave Drogon a happy caress on the snout before turning to the map, "The level of discontent amongst the new citizens of my empire grows with each new city claimed."

Marian nods, "can't expect former masters and slaves to get on all that well. Hell, only reason Meereen manages half as well as it does is because we've killed most of the former masters."

"Yes, it seems the Sons of the Harpy were at least a boon in that way," Dany agrees, "We do not have to deal with this… passive aggressive attitude that has been adopted by the former masters of the Free Cities."

"Those names are way too ironic," Marian shakes her head, then raises her hands in surrender at Dany's glare.

"Ironic it may be, but the feeling that came with it was not," Barristan notes, "The Free Cities got their names by being unbent by the whims of any overlord. They were independant."

"And now I have taken that independence away," Dany tells her friend, "And so the tensions grow."

"And you think new cities will help?" Marian asks

"I do," Dany nods, then passes a scroll to the goddess, "Aegon has sent word that his army has finally managed to press through to Vaes Dothrak. It can be considered the Dothraki capital. He has captured it, the wise women of the Dothraki, and killed the new Khal of Khals, Moro."

"So he's won?" Marian asks.

Barristan nods, "Grey Worm is leading a contingent of Scalebound to help bolster the Prince's forces. When he feels confident that his men have a tight grasp of the land, he will return with Rhaegal."

"Good for him," Marian nods, then asks, "So I'm guessing the new cities are going to be put in the Dothraki sea?"

"Correct," Dany nods, "Yara is off assembling a team of prospectors to find the best routes through the land for road building. Once they are planned, we will begin spreading the word to our people."

"And you aren't telling them now because?"

"If we tell them now, there will be migration, but it will be chaos and everyone will think themselves entitled to a slice of the grass sea. I want order."

"Ah, okay," Marian nods, "So they'll basically be buying land and then moving there?"

Dany furrows her brow, "I had not thought of that. It is a good idea, but most of the people could not afford such an option."

"Yeah, but the people you want out of the cities are the former slavers, most of them are rolling in it."

"That isn't necessarily true," Barristan disagrees, "Jorah would probably have a better idea, but I do not think that untrained slaves truly cost much."

"Whatever the case, it is an option," Dany declares and waves her hand to silence the topic, "We are here so you can help us construct the cities."

"Me?" Marian leans her head back, "Why not get workers to do it? They could use the gold, and they'd probably love you for giving them the jobs."

Dany and Barristan blink at her, the Empress admitting, "I had not even considered that."

"It is a good idea, your grace," The old knight nods, "It would certainly lessen the number of our people making use of our shelters within the cities."

She nods, then shakes her head before looking at Marian, "And this is why I can't be without you for a month. You realize that your advice has been a you send for years, do you not?"

"A you send?" Marian furrows her brow, "What did I send?"

Dany closes her eyes, "Is that all you take from what I just told you?"

"No, but the rest of it is just insecurity talking," Marian tells her, then waves a hand at her, "You are literally the best ruler that I've ever met, on either of my worlds!"

Daenerys pulls herself a little straighter at the statement, "Thank you, Hawke, I appreciate that."

"I know you do," the former Champion of Kirkwall nods, "But that isn't why I said it."

Missandei takes the Empress's hand gently, "You are the light in a thousand suns, your grace. The people of The Maw may see my wife as their god, but you are their Empress. They love you, because it is you who has guided them into freedom."

Barristan nods solemnly at the favored advisor's words, and Dany smiles at the words and purses her lips, "Thank you, Missandei, for your words. And thank your wife when you catch up with her."

Missandei blinks, turns to where Marian had been standing, then sees that her wife had departed. She turns near completely around before her eyes land on Marian. The mage is stalking back into the pyramid, grumbling as she goes in frustration. Missandei gives a final squeeze to Dany's hand before she rushes after her wife, ignoring Barristan's chuckle as she passes him.

She catches up with Marian as the lady reaches the White Room, "And where do you think you are going?"

Marian turns back, eyes wide and a guilty look plastered onto her face, "Uh…. out?"

"Are you?" Missandei raises an eyebrow.

"No?" Marian leans back, giving the best surrender she can.

"Correct," Missandei nods, then she smirks, "At least not without me."

Marian's frown breaks into a wide grin, "you want to come with?"

"I do," Missandei nods.

"Great! Let's go!"

"And where exactly are we going, love?" Missandei asks

"I hear there's a mad alchemist in King's Landing," Marian tells her, "That's what I got from some of the Bolton men when I was talking to them, at least."

"The who?" Missandei asks, having never actually been very invested in the Stark storyline on more than a cursory basis as her friendships with Tyrion and Sansa required.

"Doesn't matter," Mairan assures her, "Point is, it could probably help us with our little… side project."

Missandei raises an eyebrow, "I would hardly consider our wish to bear a child of both our blood a 'side matter,' would you?"

Marian's eyes widen in horror, "Of course not, love! Never! It's the most important thing in my world right now!"

"Then let us be off," Missandei extends a hand for Marian to take, which the mage happily does.

And then the two of them are in a crater.

Marian looks around, "Huh, not what I expected, but at least there isn't a welcome party."

"You do not enjoy being welcomed," Missandei asks, then shivers from the unexpected cold that comes with Westeros.

Marian, seeing her discomfort, creates a coat for her. The Empress's advisor takes it with a smile and looks around, "This must be where the Sept of Baelor once stood."

"The what?" Marian asks

Missandei rolls her eyes, as much as she did not pay attention to the Starks, Marian payed just as little attention to the goings on of matters not directly affecting The Maw, it's people or its friends. As much an enemy as the Lannisters and their backers were, they were not a threat to The Maw, and would not be a threat to the Starks unless Stannis was defeated.

"Halt!" A voice shouts from above, drawing their eyes to a man in a golden cloak.

"Oh, it seems that you will be receiving your welcoming party after all," Missandei notes.

Marian snorts, "Me and my big mouth."


	60. Meat Pies

**The Dragon and the Hawke 60**

Qyburn expected many things as the new Grand Maester and personal alchemist of Cersei Lannister. He'd been a prisoner at Harrenhal, a disgraced Maester, and then he'd saved Jaime Lannister's life. Things had certainly changed since then, and now here he was, sitting a few feet away from where he'd had the children murder Pycelle, trying to come up with a new alchemical formulae that would allow him to survive being burnt alive by wildfire.

He may be a loyal man, especially to madwomen who could change their attitudes at the drop of a dragon, but he was not stupid enough to think that the coin couldn't fall out of his favor. He had helped the Queen destroy the Sept, and he was glad to do it, faith was the realm of the foolish after all, but he had not expected the boy King to leap to his death.

That had been an unexpected and very unfortunate turn. Now there was a chance that Cersei would turn her anger to him, and he did not want to die the way most of the former Mad King's victims did. Burning alive was a painful experience, he knew this well.

He was in the process of clearing his latest failure when there was a gentle knock on the door to his study. He does not look up, merely calling out, "Come in!"

"Maester Qyburn?" the voice belongs to one of the children, one of Varys's former little birds.

"Yes, child?" The Maester asks as he checks to make sure that nothing on his table can interact and cause an unexpected combustion.

"There're two women out in the city who want to meet you," The girl tells him, and he looks up in curiosity. The question is clear on his face and the girl expands, "They came from nowhere and appeared in the Queen's Crater."

The Queen's Crater, what the common folk had taken to calling the remains of the Sept of Baelor, "And why do they want to meet me? How do you know they do?"

"One of them, a lady in armor, asked if anyone knew a 'mad alchemist,'" the child explains further, "She went and hurt some goldcloaks before asking, so me and some of the other kids were in the crowd watching. I ran, soon as I heard what she asked."

"And you think I'm a 'mad alchemist,' do you?" Qyburn asks, letting an amused smile and a chuckle spread across his face to tell the child that she was not in trouble for her assumption.

"Aye, sir, you brought back the Mountain, everyone says it'd take a madman to do it," She tells him.

"Then I am glad my reputation proceeds me," Qyburn pulls himself to his feet, stretching out his sleeping muscles, "Do you know where these women are now?"

"Yessir, Martyn said that he'd take them to that inn you like cause of the pies," The girl tells him.

"Ah, perfect, I have been aching for an excuse to enjoy a good meat pie," Qyburn nods, and plucks a few sweets from the jar he keeps them in and hands one to the child, "Let me just grab my guard and you can lead us."

She nods eagerly and waits as he grabs his escort. He did not know why Ser Jaime had assigned him the Sellsword, but so far the man had proven intelligent, frugal, and amoral enough not to care about his experimentation. He'd even promised his silence for a solution of the fireproofing concoction when Qyburn completed it.

"Bronn," He pokes his head out the door, "I have need of an escort, if you would accompany me to the Daring Knight."

"The place with the terrific meat pies?" Bronn asks.

"That's the one," Qyburn agrees.

"Be happy to, Maester," Bronn agrees. He too had been entranced by the quality of the food that the inn managed to get a hold of. Qyburn suspected, and had even had the children confirm, that the owner had connections to smugglers that regularly provided him with ingredients. It didn't truly matter, but the point was that Qyburn knew, and so the owner knew that he knew, and never asked for payment in exchange for silence.

The little girl led them through the secret passages of the Red Keep, which Qyburn had yet to master, and out into the city. The mad Maester took a happy whiff of the city's stench and gave a hearty chuckle as the girl led himself and Bronn onwards, "Ah, my friend, is there anything better than the stench of a city filled with life?"

"Aye, but it isn't very appropriate for young ears," Bronn replies.

"Fair enough," Qyburn agrees, but of all the vows he'd forsaken, he did hold to his celibacy. He'd experienced the best night of his life thanks to his eager siblings and flowing coin before he set off to join the Maesters. He was happy to keep that as his last treasured memory of the carnal arts.

They reached the inn after a few moments of casual travel through the streets, none bothering him or his guard. The fear that the people now held for the Queen now greatly outweighed their hatred, so they would not risk her wrath in an attempt on his life.

The Daring Knight was a large inn, having boasted to house more knights for the tourneys than any other. Now it was mostly empty, the happy days of King Robert long gone. Only those that loved the food and appreciated the mild comforts that it afforded remained loyal to the pricey establishment. That meant that it was mostly Lannister men that populated the bar area.

"Ah, Maester, good to see you!" Robar, the owner, greeted. The man was a jovial sort, and lucky enough to have married his daughter off to the Braavosi smuggler that provided his food years ago. That way he didn't have to worry about the Lannisters taking liberties with her, as seemed to be their habit.

"Robar, good to see you as well," Qyburn smiles, taking the man's hand and giving it a genial shake, "My small friend here said that there were two young ladies that wished to meet me?"

Robar nods, "That would be the Ladies Hawke, foreigners by the look of them."

"Ladies Hawke?" Qyburn asks, it had been a few years ago that word from across the Narrow sea was that same sex marriages were becoming commonplace, but this would be the first he'd ever heard about in Westeros.

The name Hawke also tickled a few memories, and he nearly put it together when Bronn did it for him, "Hawke, ain't that the name of the witch they say is a god over in Slaver's Bay?"

"It's The Maw, now!" is a call from a huddle of Lannister guards near the bar. The men part to reveal two women, the apparently named Ladies Hawke. One was dressed in leathers and plate with skin as pale as a northman's, while the other was garbed in a dress that would be more suited for the Reach or Dorne but was assisted by a coat in keeping the dark skinned woman warm. The one in plate continues her comment now that she can see who she's talking to, "Wouldn't make sense to keep the name 'Slaver's Bay' when we've gone and destroyed slavery."

"Fair enough," Bronn agrees, then asks, "So, you that woman everyone says is a god?"

The woman throws her head back and groans, "Oh, by the maker, people actually believe that all the way out here?"

"Can't say I do, but word is that you've already got a church somewhere round here," Bronn tells her.

"Fuck," She lays back, then looks to Robar, "Can I get a drink? Something strong, I wanna wash this taste of-"

"Marian," her companion admonishes, "We are here to talk to the alchemist, not drink away your delusions."

"My delusions?" The now named Marian Hawke asks, "What delusions? Missy, I am not delusional, everyone else is!"

"Am I to take the word of one against that of millions," Is the return question, then adds, "and while it is the one that is attempting to be humble?"

Marian groans again, then sighs, "Alright, fine, no drinking. Not like it'd do much anyway. You, Missandei Hawke, are way too good at talking me out of shit."

Missandei raises an eyebrow, "you are merely easy to convince, my love."

Qyburn, deciding that now would be a good time to introduce himself, coughs lightly, "Hello there, ladies, I believe I am the… alchemist you are here to ask about."

"Really?" Marian hops off her chair and pulls her wife to her feet, they walk over to Qyburn, and it is only as the two women walk past the Lannister men that the Maester realizes that the soldiers seem to be frozen in place, in the middle of pulling weapons.

There is a sudden explosion of motion as the men unfreeze, and then they are all smacking into each other as weapons clatter to the ground. The confused groans echo through the bar as Marian and Missandei reach the Maester and his guard. Marian smiles at Qyburn, "Hi there, I'm Marian Hawke."

"I am Maester Qyburn," the man introduces himself, "I received word that you were looking for me?"

"Yes!" Marian nods excitedly, waving him and Bronn over to a free table. All four sit and the mage starts, "I want to get my wife pregnant."

Qyburn blinks, "But… you are both women?"

"We are, but back where I'm from, there was a potion that made it possible."

"How?" Qyburn asks, now curious. If there was a potion that could manage something like that, how had he not heard of it before?

"Well, from what I remember, it was some kind of mixture of a bunch of fertility herbs, no idea which ones, then the partners added their blood to the mixture, then the one that's getting pregnant coats their insides with it."

"So, it is an imitation of the male... result?" Qyburn asks.

Marian nods, "Exactly."

"Why not just have a man do it?" Bronn asks, confused.

Missandei turns her gaze to him, "I had thought the people of Westeros were against the idea of bastards? From what Lord Snow said, they are treated terribly."

"Lord Snow?" Qyburn asks, "Are you referring to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jon Snow?"

"Yes, he spoke of the condition of bastards extensively to her grace," Missandei tells him.

"Her grace? I was not aware that Queen Cersei spoke with the Lord Commander," Qyburn notes, though he knows that the woman was not talking about the Mad Queen.

"Not your queen, our queen. Well, empress," Marian corrects, "They talk sometimes when he updates her on the advance of the White Walkers."

"That old wives' tale?" Bronn snorts.

"Not much of one, too," Marian looks to the sellsword, "wasn't that hard to fight them, I only got stabbed once."

"One of them stabbed you?" Missandei turns to glare at her wife.

Marian shrinks in her seat and chuckles nervously, "Ah, haha, yeah, didn't I mention?"

"Not to me," Missandei tells her, and the expression on her face is terribly pensive.

Marian pulls her into a hug, "Hey, you know a little prick like that isn't gonna hurt! Hell I got a hail of arrows in my ass when I helped take the Dreadfort!"

"Yes, and I took great-" Missandei stops herself from saying any more, she closes her eyes and turns to Qyburn, "Apologies for the deviation from our topic of conversation. Do you think you'd be able to make a potion that fits with what Marian described?"

Qyburn frowns, "Possibly, to get that kind of reaction… it sounds like there is a magic involved in the process."

"Probably, Thedas was full of all kinds of magic," Marian nods.

"I am not capable of using magic," Qyburn notes, "And I know nobody that could."

Marian frowns, "Well, I've got magic, if I charged the potion, would that work?"

"There is no way to know unless I actually manage to make the potion correctly," Qyburn tells her.

"Hang on," Bronn grunts, "I'm pretty sure we're on opposite sides of the war. Isn't this a bit of a conflict of interest?"

"Yeah, and?" Marian asks.

"I don't know about you, but me and the Maester serve Cersei Lannister," Bronn tells her, "She'll fucking burn us alive if she ever finds out we talked to you."

"Huh, damn," Marian frowns, then turns to Missandei, "We should have saved this for when Stannis conquered the city, shouldn't we?"

"I had been under the assumption that the alchemist was not part of the Westerosi Queen's court," Missandei tells her wife, "We should have waited."

"Right," Marian sighs, then turns back to Qyburn, "Sorry for wasting your time"

"It is no problem," Qyburn tells her, "You have presented me with a new problem to solve, one I look forward to investigating."

"Even when you can't use it?" Marian asks

"Even then."

"Huh," Marian smiles. She stands, then helps her wife to her feet, "Then good luck!"

And suddenly Qyburn and Bronn are alone in the inn with the groaning Lannister guards. The blink and exchange looks, then decide as one not to mention anything to the Queen or Kingslayer. They need not say any more as Robar brings them drinks and their coveted meat pies.


	61. Manipulation and Magic

**The Dragon and the Hawke 61**

\- King's Landing -

It's hard to tell, but Cersei Lannister wasn't in a bad mood. She was actually rather happy with how her day had gone so far. She'd managed to quell the last of the Faith Militant, executing nearly a hundred more men with the seven pointed star carved into their foreheads.

They'd tried to assault the Red Keep, which certainly made catching or killing them easier. Fanatics were never the kind to think things through, plan them out, or live very long when faced with a superior force.

So now the Faith was decimated within the city, and the time would soon arrive for her and her men to depart from the city. The idea of staying in King's Landing was ludicrous, especially considering the power that was going to be raised against her in just a few months.

The Martell Prince's whore, the Queen of Thorns, the Burning Stag, and the Red Wolf all wanted a piece of her. She would have stayed in the city regardless, sure of victory for the Lannisters, if it weren't for the bitch across the sea.

Not the Targaryen, a blonde cunt with delusions of superiority she could deal with. It was the Storm God she wasn't willing to test. A goddess had aligned herself with the dragon bitch and Stannis, and with the alliance that her former brother in law was forming with Highgarden and Dorne, it was only a matter of time before the city fell.

She would not be there when it did. She would instead be with her new King. Euron had sent envoys, promising magic and protection from the wrath of the god, her enemies, and especially himself if she were to marry him.

She would have declined, had it not been for that god, that god who had come into her city without any difficulty and ensnared her alchemist. Qyburn had reported the arrival and sudden disappearance of the god and her mortal bride almost as soon as he was safe. He had always been a loyal madman, so she did not doubt his words. He also believed in the impossible, as clearly evidenced by her hulking bodyguard.

Of the formerly living Gregor Clegane, not much was said. Most were too fearful to even bring him up. He'd been a monster as a man, and now he was just more intimidating, though far less monstrous. He didn't rape, pillage, or reave anymore. Now he was just a killer who was very good at his job, and immune to the effects of most magic, if Qyburn were to be believed.

He would prove invaluable against Marian Hawke, if the bitch ever tried to come after her. For now, he would serve as a deterrent from Euron trying anything against her. She looks up at her hulking bodyguard and tells him, "Come."

With that, she turned from her view of the city and strode from her chambers. It was a simple walk from her chamber to the throne room, and as expected Jaime was there waiting for her. He gave her a tight, pained smile.

Poor boy, he was serving the woman who did what he'd killed the Mad King for doing. He'd never draw blade against her, though, she had him wound too tightly around her fingers. She gave him the eager smile she knew he craved and she could see tension sink from his bones, and he smiled back weakly.

It would so break him to see that she was marrying Euron, but she could not stay, and she needed him to hold the city for her. She knew he would, though the same couldn't be said of the sellsword he'd taken into his employ. Bronn of the Blackwater, what a farce. The man thought himself a noble, as though he had the same power that she did. She would take pleasure in disabusing him of that notion soon enough.

Perhaps she could kill him in front of Tyrion when the time came, they'd been friends. She would make that dwarf suffer, especially for what he'd done to Father. Cersei knew, deep in her heart, that had Tyrion simply died like he was meant, or just run like the coward he was, her father would be alive.

Tywin Lannister would not have made the same mistakes that she did. He would not have given power to the Faith, he would have ousted them from the start. He would not have allowed her to wallow in their prison, not like sweet Tomen had. Sweet, weak willed Tomen. She would regret the death of the last of her children for all her days, but time had taught her that the blood that flowed through her beloved son's viens was not the blood of a king. Not like her beloved Joffrey.

That Tyrell bitch had taken her son from her, again and again. Even in death she took her son! Margaery Tyrell deserved every hell she now burned in.

As she sat in her throne, Cersei sighed as she regarded the empty chamber, "Jaime?"

"Mm?" Jaime asks with the same enthusiasm.

"Are the preparations ready?"

"They are," She waits for it, and sure enough he asks, "Are you sure you must do this?"

"There is no other way, their god can stride right into our city, without care," She frowns in distaste, "I will not be taken by magic or steel."

"You're selling yourself to a man you don't know!"

"I've done it in the past, brother," She turns her head to glare at him, "At least this time I know he's a bastard."

"Oh, your grace, that hurts."

That was not her brother who spoke, nor Qyburn, and especially not Gregor. She turns slowly, and there is a man where once there was none.

Euron Greyjoy smiles and bows, "I present myself to my new bride to be. I hope you find me acceptable?"

"Perhaps," Cersei waves, and Gregor steps forward.

The Crow's Eye glares at the giant of a man with his visible eye, "What is this?"

"You have magic," The queen notes, "Or so the stories you've spread say, prove it."

Euron turns his gaze back to her, then to the giant, and shrugs. She waits for something to happen, but all he does is stare at her.

"Is this acceptable?" He asks, but it is not the Euron from before her, but the one to her left. Her head whips to the side, and there he is, a dagger to Jaime's throat.

She stands swiftly, glaring at him until he chuckles and releases her crippled brother, "Your grace, if you think all magic is like the Storm God's, I'm sorry to say you'll be gravely disappointed with my meager tricks."

"I find myself intrigued, instead," She tells him, "Very much so."

"Then you will take me as your king?"

"If, when I reach Casterly Rock, you are there as well, we will be wed," She tells him.

Euron frowns, which morphs into a complentative look, and he bows, "Very well, your Grace, I will meet you at your ancestral home. I suppose it wouldn't make much sense trying to be wed here, I don't follow the old gods and you've damn well taken care of the Seven."

Cersei nods, and she watches as he actually leaves the chamber, walking rather than just vanishing. Once the doors shut, she turns to her brother in worry, "Are you alright?"

Jaime frowns, "no, I'm not."

Cersei nods, and takes his flesh hand to lead him from the throne room. She would not be with him much longer, and she would make the best of what she had, even if he was not a whole man anymore.

\- Meereen -

"You were in King's Landing?" Dany asks, mildly irritated, "You realize that we aren't on good terms with them?"

"Eh, we're not actually at war though," Marian shrugs.

Dany closes her eyes, counts to three, then turns to Missandei, "Can I trust you to give me a decent excuse?"

"Marian was intent on going, regardless of what I said, so I chose to accompany her rather than argue the point," Missandei tells her, "You know it is impossible to dissuade her when an idea pops into her mind."

"It's true," Marian agrees, "I am very stubborn."

"Yes, unfortunately, you are," Dany rolls her eyes, then a soft smirk plays on her lips, "So, did you find anything interesting while you were there?"

"Nah, the mad alchemist I was going to see didn't have the know how to brew the potion."

"What potion?" Dany asks.

Marian furrows her brow, then, "Ooh, right! I never told you that bit, me and Missy are trying to replicate a potion that existed in my world, it helped Andrastian woman have babies."

"You wanna get knocked up?" Yara asks, blinking at them, "Now?"

"No time like the present," Marian shrugs, then pauses, "You know, that's actually kinda true, there is never a time like the present, everything is unique and all tha-"

"Marian," Missandei chides, and the Storm God smiles apologetically. The Empress's translator turns back to her and nods, "We have been thinking of it, and trying to find a way to accomplish the task, for several weeks."

"G'luck to you," Yara smirks, then gives Dany a sidelong glance, "Lemme know when you succeed."

Marian laughs, followed by Missandei, then Dany tells Yara, "If you want children, I am sure Daario will be happy to oblige."

Yara stops laughing, blinks at the Empress, then looks to the Commander of the city guard. Daario smirks at her, and winks. She shrugs, "Well, he's got the looks, and the moves, and he's eager. Maybe when we finally kill my cunt of an uncle."


	62. Plague of News

**The Dragon and the Hawke 62**

 **\- Inn at the Crossroads -**

It was strange to concieve of a world without Marian Hawke, she's forced her way into reality and helped Daenerys Targeryen take over half the known world. It was honestly a surprise when some people had never heard of her.

"So you're saying that there's a god, a real god, making a ruckus across the sea?" Hot Pie asks, very confused.

"Aye," The one eyed Berric Dondarion nods, it had been several years since last they'd seen each other, since the Hound's trial, really. And that the Hound was sitting next to the one eyed revenant was proof enough that the times had changed.

Hot Pie whistles, then takes an offered mug and refills it before handing it back, "Blimey, that must throw you lot for a tizzy."

"What makes you say that?" Berris asks.

"Well, ain't he a follower of Roller?" Hot Pie asks, pointing cautiously at Thoros of Myr on the other side of the Hound.

"R'hllor," Thoros corrects, "And I admit, it is a strange test of faith, to know that a woman hold the power of the gods."

"How do you… keep faith?" Hot Pie asks.

"I remember that my lord has a path, a plan, for me," Thoros takes a swig of mead, "Who's to say that Marian Hawke isn't just another part of her plan?"

"I do," The Hound grunts, "Some cunt across the sea isn't going to waste her time with us. She's got what, half a continent now?"

Hot Pie shrugs, he'd only heard about this god today. Thoros, on the other hand, nods, "We picked up some Lannister boys a few days ago, they said she and Daenerys Targaryen have taken most of the Free Cities in Essos."

"Seven, that's two continents Dragons have won for the Targaryens," Sandor grunts, irritated, "Fuck my luck, I'm drinking with fire worshipers and fucking dragons are across the sea."

"Fire is light, Sandor," Berris drawls, "Life, it is all that stands against the growing dark."

"Winter is coming," Hot Pie agrees, and then he pulls back when the three men turn to look at him in unison, "S'what Arry used to say. Winter is coming, and in the winter the pack survives."

"The fuck has that got to do with fire?"

"Well it has to do with standing up against the dark," Hot Pie defends himself, "Arry said it, and when she passed through he a few weeks ago, she said it again when I tol'er that the Starks have Winterfell."

"The Starks have Winterfell?" Sandor blinks, "the girl's alive?"

Berric and Thoros looks curious as well, the Lannisters they'd picked up for information the week before hadn't mentioned anything of the sort. They'd been more concerned with keeping the peace in the Riverlands and the destruction of House Frey.

"Aye, Stannis Baratheon took it back when he ousted the Boltons, gave it back to them when he marched south."

"And where is Stannis Baratheon now?" Sandor asks, cautious.

"Word from the Frey women that fled down the road is that he took over the Twins," Hot Pie tells him, "Wintering there so his army stays -"

"Hot Pie!" An older man calls, "You got other tables to tend, you can talk after you earn your keep!"

Hot Pie looks to the innkeeper and nods, he gives the three Brothers a cautious nod and moves away.

"So," Berris scratches his beard, "Stannis holds the Twins."

"Fuck me," Sandor growls.

 **\- The Twins -**

Stannis watched through a window as his daughter played in the snow. She was so innocent, and now that he looked back upon this last year, he realized how close he'd come to destroying her.

Mellisandre had told him that her god needed kingly blood, and he'd nearly given it to her. Had the weather not turned, had the Boltons not been dissaray, had a dozen things not gone right, he would have done something monstrous in his quest.

Now he needed to think.

Selyse was still as devoted to his cause, his divine right for the Iron Throne. Dorne was willing to swear, if not allegiance, then treaty. Olenna Tyrell and the Lords of the Reach were willing to join him as well. He was the most directly in line for the Iron Throne now.

Tommen and Myrcella were dead. As much as he despised them for being the children of incest, not true heirs true heirs to the throne, they did not deserve their deaths. He was hesitant to make ties with Dorne because of it. Ellaria Sand had murdered her lord, the rightful Prince of Dorne, and before that she had poisoned Myrcella.

The woman was dangerous, and he was hesitant to even send an envoy, and if he did it would certainly not be Davos. Davos would go to the Lady Tyrell, he was her sort. The seaman, who even now watched over Stannis's own daughter, had lost four sons to this war. He had lost them to the Lannisters, though it seems he bore little ill will towards Tyrion for the dwarf's part in the plan.

He would be able to sympathize with the the Queen of Thorns, at least on an emotional level. The woman didn't have much in the way of patience, especially not with her son and two grandchildren dead. Davos was a direct man, and he very rarely tried to dance around a subject.

"Devan," Stannis calls, and Davos's eldest remaining son, and last within his army's ranks, steps into the room, "Collect your father for me, I have a task for him."

"Yes m'lord," the boy bows and exits.

 **\- Meereen -**

Children, and the loss of them, seemed to be on many minds. Dany frowned at the ledger sent by Jorah from Yunkai; in it was described the conditions of a plague sweeping through the city. The illness, a variation of the Pale Mare by the description, was most aggressively killing children and elders.

"The situation grows worse by the day," Tyrion tells her, looking to Varys.

The Spider steps forward and notes, "I had heard some whispers from my little birds, but Ser Jorah's note arrived before I could give you the details, I've already sent word that they are to avoid the illness and move to the countryside until it subsides."

"Your little birds are children?" Yara asks, surprised.

"Who but? None notice a child wandering through the street, begging for coin, or a scullery maid who had always tended to the pots and done little else. Servants and children are rarely seen, your Grace."

Yara thinks for a moment, then nods hesitantly, "True enough, the little buggers are always getting underfoot. Can't say I ever paid them much mind, though."

"And I suppose that is now going to change?"

"You bet your fat ass it is."

"Charming, your Grace."

"Yara, Varys, please," Dany sighs, setting the letter down, "It doesn't say much, can we do anything to help?"

"We can try to get in contact with healers across the Empire and see who is willing to help," Tyrion offers as an idea, "Essos may not have as grand a tradition of learned men as Westeros, but there are several institutions that were once supported by the priesthoods."

"Who supports them now?" Daario asks, concerned. He'd been in more than a few healer's homes, and they were truly a lifesaver for master and slave alike.

"We do," Marian tells him, then frowns and admits, "Apparently I get donations, so I have to send that gold somewhere."

"I thought you loved looting?" Daario asks, he was sure that he'd been forced to sit through about twenty lectures on the perks of loot economics.

"Eh," Marian shimmies her hand, "I can't really count this as looting, I mean, yeah, it's mine, but they're just giving it to me. That's not looting, so I can't just keep it!"

"Of course," Darrio raises an eyebrow, but he can somewhat understand, there is a difference between gaining from hard work and gaining from the charity of others.

Dany clears her throat, "Can we return to the illness that is taking Yunkai?"

"Right, sorry," Marian nods, "Well I can send word through the healing houses that anyone that risks Yunkai will get a prize, or something."

"They will be rewarded with a set position within the city and a year's supply of pay so they may set their practice up and keep it running," Dany tells her, and after Marian nods, she asks, "Can your magic heal them?"

"Ah, no," Marian shakes her head, "If Anders were here, he could, but my skills with healing magic has always been weak. It'd be more likely whoever I tried healing would pop like an overfilled kidney, and that's a sign nobody wants to see."

 **\- Sunspear -**

Euron laughs as his latest victim's head explodes like an overfilled kidney. The bastard had spotted him, and that just couldn't be allowed. This was a stealth mission, after all. He couldn't spirit Ellaria Sand out of her fortress if he was being loud, now could he?

He'd have to be more careful, stick more closely to the shadows. His spell cloaked him from men's sight, but it didn't do the same to his shadow, and that had been the source of this current conundrum.

Speaking of, it took him a moment to grab the body and drag it off the path, into some bushes, and hide it very carefully behind a statue. Looking at the corpse, then down to himself, a truly grand idea springs into his head. It's clear that invisibility wouldn't be very effective in the Dornish sun, but a clever disguise had never failed him.

Why use magic when experience was just as useful?


	63. Winter is Here

**The Dragon and the Hawke 63**

 **\- Sunspear -**

The ease with which he'd managed to get this far was boggling. It was like these Dornish fucks hadn't been expecting any retaliation for their assassination of Princess Myrcella. Sure, they probably weren't expecting a magical Pirate like himself, but they should have expected something at the very least!

But, Euron Greyjoy never looked a gift horse in the mouth for long. He usually ate them.

The eating in this case was unfortunately going to have to wait until he was back on the Silence, his great ship. Ellaria Sand was heavier than he'd expected. The bitch had put up a good fight, for a woman who hadn't done much more than lie on her back for most of her life as greater people had their way with her.

Oberyn Martell having been the longest running lover, before his unfortunate Red Viper would have been a fantastic opponent to face, a fight that would have gone down in the annals of history. Still, the way the Prince had died instead would be in history anyway, and Euron was excited to try and make his own impact.

Euron moves more slowly than he would have liked, carrying the Ellaria Sand over his shoulder. He had to compensate for her weight and the fact that it was black as pitch. He'd picked a cloudy day, and it seemed the clouds were interested in doing more than staying. By the sound of thunder, he could guess that one of the few storms to hit Dorne was going to strike within the next hour or so.

It would provide the perfect cover for him to escape with. The Dornish weren't sailors, and their ships would be lost to the storms. If they weren't lost, they it would still be very hard to find a ship like the Silence.

"Hey!"

Fuck, he'd been spotted.

Euron spins, a snarl on his throat, and sees three guards rushing towards him. A small spell, one he'd learnt from tomes stolen out of Qarth in Essos, leaves his lips and crashes into the floor. The men rushing give surprised cries as they ground under their feet softens to sand. Their cries are muffled as their faces plant, though one smacks his chin and the clap of his teeth smacking together makes even Euron wince.

And then the sand returns to stone, and two of the man are trapped to suffocate in the unforgiving floor. The last screams in panic, and Euron beats a hasty retreat.

 **\- Meereen -**

Dany and Ser Barristan are looking over a map of Yunkai, the Queensguard pointing to key positions within the city already lost to plague. It seemed that there was no true rhyme or reason to where the plague would pop up, the match a splattered blotching if human illness.

"How do we contain it?" She ask.

"Ser Jorah is having men burn the buildings around the contaminated areas," Barristan tells her, "until Lady Marian's call for healers is answered, that will have to do."

Dany sighs, frustrated, as she absorbs the information. It wasn't the first time she'd heard this, nor would it be the last. She demanded reports near hourly, and the kind old knight indulged her.

She certainly hoped that no more trouble would rear its head before this issue was resolved.

 **\- Eastwatch by the Sea -**

Tormund Giantsbane looked out over the vast swaths of land beyond the Wall. It had once been his homeland, a place he loved and hated. The cold was the worst, and then the dead had come and they'd been worse than the cold. Come to think of it, he really hated his homeland.

He really hated the dead, too.

"We're fucked."

He looks to his side, and one of his fellow Free Folk look back at him and shrug. Jon had asked them to man Eastwatch by the Sea and let him know if the dead were marching. Well the dead were marching.

They were a distant shape on the horizon at the moment, but the massive collection of shambling corpses was so large that there was no white of snow to be seen after their ranks started.

Tormund couldn't help but agree with his fellow, they were certainly fucked, but not, "If those dragons Snow promised show, then we'll be fine."

"Fuck fine, Giantsbane, you see how many of the fuckers there are?"

"Aye, you want to know how many cowardly cunts I can see, too?"

The wildling growls at him, but holds his tongue when the others around them chuckle. It wasn't much, but Tormund was calling it a victory. He turns to his other side and tells the wizened old man, the Maester of Eastwatch, "Get word to Jon Snow, he needs to tell the witch to hurry the fuck over."

The Maester nods and makes for the stairs. Tormund watches him go for a few minutes before turning back to the advancing army of the dead, "How long do you think it'll take them to get here?"

"Three days."

"Really, that quick?" Tormund frowns, it usually took the walking dead and their masters weeks to make it a mile so long as there weren't any living in their way.

"Aye, I bet the cunts can smell us, they'll be wanting to make a go at us before the witch arrives."

"Fuckers."

 **\- Highgarden -**

"So what do they call you then?" Olenna Tyrell asks the rough looking man in front of her. Tarly's boy, Dickon, had brought the man to her, claiming he was a representative of Stannis Baratheon. She'd be the judge of that.

"Davos, my lady," He tells her, "Folk that think it an insult call me the Onion Knight."

"Ah, Seaworth, you really are King Stannis's man."

"I am," Davos nods, and when she waves at the empty chair across from her, he sits, "Afore we begin, I'm sorry for your loss."

Olena narrows her eyes at him, "Loss, what would you know of loss, ser?"

"Plenty, My Lady, I started this war with seven sons, now I have three," He tells her plainly, "And I know folk who've lost a fair bit more than even that."

"Have you a way to bring back my granddaughter, my grandson?" She asks, "Or even my oaf of a son?"

"No, which is why I am sorry," Davos frowns, "I'd do anything to have my own boys back, but they went same as yours."

"And how is that?"

"Wildfire and Lannisters," He tells her, "But my boys were killed in war, and I can't well blame the dwarf Lannister for his part in their deaths."

"Well my son and grandchildren died a far more senseless death, at the hands of a monster."

"Aye," Davos nods, "And that's why King Stannis has sent me here."

"You want to assault King's Landing, now? Just as Winter is starting?"

"He wants the threats of the south dealt with before those of the North reveal themselves."

"The North is rebelling again?"

"No, my lady, seems there's an army of the dead on its way to kill us all."

"The dead? You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't expect anything," He tells her, "I'm just telling you what his grace wants me to tell you, but if you want proof that magic exists and that the walking dead are real, look to the east."

"East is King's Landing, and as monstrous as Cersei is, I don't think -"

"Further, my lady, I mean Daenerys Targaryen and her pet goddess."

"Ah, the Storm God, truly common folk are taken by fancy."

"I'd be inclined to believe it if I hadn't seen her tear a hole in the world with my own eyes," Davos tells her, and when she raises an eyebrow he explains, "I watched her tear open a window, a way through from Winterfell to Meereen. I've been to both, my land, and she made a yearlong journey in a single step."

"And you think that because a powerful eastern magician exists, that ancient legends are coming true?"

"I don't know, but my king and his red lady believe in them," Davos tells her, "I may not like the Lady Melisandre much, but she's conjured some dark powers and shown me shit that makes my stomach coil."

"So on the basis that two witches believe the dead are walking south, you believe it as well?"

"Not just them, but Lord Commander Snow as well."

"Who?"

"Jon Snow, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, young lad."

"Ned Stark's bastard boy?"

"The very same," Davos nods, "He led an expedition beyond the Wall to treat with Wildlings. He killed a White Walker with a Valyrian Steel sword while defending them from the dead."

Olena stares at him, then she sighs, "And so the age of heroes has come again, I'd truly hoped I would be dead by now."

"S'not all bad, my lady," Davos says.

"And how is that?"

"We could be one of the poor buggers cast as the heroes."

 **\- Castle Black -**

Jon Snow reads the scroll, and cursed.

"What is it?" Edd Tollett asks.

"They're at Eastwatch," He tells his friend.

Edd nods, "Tormund, yeah, you sent 'em there."

"The dead, Edd."

"Oh, bugger."

Jon nods, then stands and moves towards the wall. He'd had a large white X painted on it, and in the center was a spark of green energy. Pressing it, the hole expanded and his hair was messed by the cold air around him escaping into the warmth of Meereen.

A Scalebound turns to regard him, "Lord Snow."

"I must speak with her grace," He tells the soldier.

The man nods, and waves for him to come through. Together they enter the throne room, and Jon casts his eyes about. It's far more empty than it had been the last instance he'd set foot in Meereen. It was completely empty, even.

The Scalebound leads him through the pyramid, and upwards. Jon had never gone further than the throne room, so he was glad for the guide, even as he tried to memorize their path. A few minutes of walking later and they were in front of an open doorway.

"Hold here, I will tell her grace you have arrived."

Jon nods, hating the delay but knowing he couldn't just barge into the room. The Scalebound entered, and he heard the man declare him, a quick exchange of words and he was ushered into the chamber.

It was a council chamber, but only Dany and Ser Barristan were within. The old knight gives him a respectful nod, which is returned equally, as Daenerys asks, "Lord Commander, has something happened?"

"Aye, your grace, Tormund Giantsbane sends word from Eastwatch, the dead are nearly upon them."

"So soon?" She straightens.

"Winter is here, your grace," He notes, "And they've been marching since spring. I doubt they had much trouble reaching the keep from Hardhome."

"How many men man Eastwatch?" Barristan asks.

"Not enough," Jon tells her, "I've come to ask for the aid you promised at the start of our alliance."

Dany closes her eyes, pensive, but she tells him, "You will have it, Lord Commander. I cannot travel myself, I must remain within the Maw. A plague is afflicting my people and I cannot leave them. You will have Marian and my children, however. I also grant you leave to use the White room to move your men to Eastwatch if you so desire."

"Thank you, your grace," Jon nods, "I must inform my family of the impending danger, next, so they can call their banners to defend the North should we fall."

"Good luck, Lord Commander."


End file.
